In this strange place
by DragonlordRynn
Summary: After he got blown up by the nuclear warhead, Alex suddenly finds himself captured by the most ugly things he's ever seen. Luckily, they were edible. Unluckily, they are Orcs and he clearly isn't in Manhattan anymore. Rated T for Language and Violence. Now Complete!
1. Manhattan no more

**Author: I got this idea when I worked on my 'Gods and Monsters' Fanfic, combined with the fact I was playing Skyrim and named one of my Dragonborns Alex. What if Alex ended up in Middle Earth?**

 **There are going to be only canonical pairings though. Alex and Aragorn are going to be friends and allies, but nothing more. Feel free to read into their interaction as much as you want.**

 **This story will be based heavily on the movies, though there are going to be some book elements in it.  
Also, I plan on letting Alex hold back for now. He is essentially a thing worse than Nazgûl and he wouldn't want to antagonize yet another group of people.**

 **I do not see Alex as a bad person either. He had been hunted by Blackwatch and he has caused quite a lot of civilian casualties, but not because he actively wanted to slaughter the people. He was just hungry and confused, but being a Weapon of Mass destruction makes it easy for him to enjoy the carnage he caused.**

 **Also, EDIT: First upload of this chapter was on 25th January 2016, second version uploaded is on 10th of April 2016. I am going to fix the chapters up to Chapter 17 during the next time. Oh. And it's not going to be pretty. So be warned.  
**

* * *

Manhattan no more

The helicopter jerked a bit as Alex unclasped the hook that connected it to the nuclear warhead. He watched it plummet to the murky depths below and immediately pressed the controls down so the Blackhawk tilted to the front and started to fly away. The virus didn't know how much time he had left before the explosion would go off. He did know, however, that he would probably be too slow, but he hoped he would make it closer to the coast to increase his chance of survival. A part of him was interested to see how durable he really was, as even a Thermobaric Tank Shell to the face only threw him off course until he got his hands on something to feed on.

But a nuclear explosion was much more than a Thermobaric shell, and the latter already reduced him to a whimpering wreck. He didn't want to find out what would happen if he didn't manage to bail his ass out of here _fast_.

Above him, the rotor created a dull staccato of dull _thuds_ , but it didn't manage to drown out the loud noise of his blood race in his ears.

 _Blood. Hah. He didn't have blood anymore._

The explosion was muffled far behind him, startling him out of his thoughts. He turned his head to watch the white hot dome of light rising high above the water. Alex swore, tilting the controls down as far as it was somehow possible without breaking the stick off. The Blackhawk's engines roared out and the helicopter shot across the sky, but several voices inside his head told Alex that he was too slow. Too slow to escape.

With a loud groan, the Blackhawk began to jerk out of control when the shockwave hit. It twisted and turned for a moment, but then the metal gave a loud shriek as it began to get torn apart.

Alex swore violently, but none of the controls obeyed him anymore. All he could see was a white light enveloping the helicopter, blinding him once it lit up the cockpit.

His last coherent thoughts spiralled back to Dana. He wanted to see her again, wanted to know how she was doing since he left her with Ragland.

But now, he wouldn't see her again.

Searing hot pain shot through his body, burning his flesh away.

His mind shut off, ripped away by the fire. Then there was only blissful darkness.

And Alex knew no more.

* * *

Darkness was still surrounding him, his senses were muted.

He couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't smell. But he could feel.

His body hurt, a dull throbbing pain somewhere in his mid-section. Or he believed it was his mid-section. He felt terrible, wasn't even sure whether he _had_ a mid-section to speak of.

A flash of fire made him flinch, but it also allowed a clear thought flash through his brain. He hurt.

Did that mean he was still alive?

Alex tried to grasp the feeling of his body hurting. Hurting was good. Hurting meant he was still alive.

Still able to get back home to Dana.

The Blacklight virus tried to open his eyes, but his body didn't obey. He was much too tired. His consciousness slipped away, leaving him floating in darkness once more.

Dana!

Alex struggled to regain his senses once more, but his consciousness kept sliding away as he tried to grasp it.

But he couldn't sleep now. He had to get back to Dana. He had to make sure that she was still safe.

His mind thrashed against the confinements of his body, trying to move, to open the eyes, flick a finger...anything! But his body was much too tired. Every time his mind began to struggle, his energy dropped and he slipped away once more. He didn't know whether he was dieing or not, but alone the fact that he always came back meant that he was still alive.

Alex seethed in the darkness, when his consciousness kept fading in and out. He couldn't sleep here. He had to get up and get moving before Blackwatch would manage to find him, before they took him away.

He scowled and struggled once more against the darkness that kept a grip on his mind. And this time he was rewarded with a faint sensation at the back of his mind.

Sounds?

Yes. His ears picked up noises. Faint, yet so close. Alex paused, focusing on the sounds. He felt his mind slipping away once more, but he had to know what it was.

Crunching. And people talking?

Alex didn't manage to get anything more as he blacked out again.

He growled on the inside, determined to stay awake next time he woke up.

Once he did, the sounds were clearer this time. It were voices again. Rough, like somebody had swallowed some glass. The Prototype still couldn't understand _what_ exactly they were saying, but the voices were much clearer now.

Suddenly his body clenched painfully. Alex was alarmed, but he couldn't exactly pinpoint the reason _why_.

The reason hit him like a sledge hammer: Somebody seized him under his armpits and began dragging him away. Every cell of Alex began to churn as his instincts whirled like a tornado. Blackwatch. Did Blackwatch find him?

He tried to fight back, to jump into action and get some distance between him and whoever had grabbed him. He certainly didn't feel like _fighting_ at the moment, but he couldn't allow them to get him. However, from the few information his muddled brain managed to give him, he realized that he was merely struggling weakly. Pathetic. Not fit for the King of Gods.

He heard those voices again and a sharp pain flared up from his side. He felt something _snap_ inside his body, realizing that they've broken a piece of his supporting structure with a brutal kick in the ribs.

They had no respect at all.

Alex scowled, but his mind began to slip again now that it was busy with repairing the damage done. He could only faintly hear the voices laughing and the virus found himself being dragged further away. He felt massive paws that began to tear at his clothes, patting him down to look for weapons. Alex struggled against it and forced his Biomass to harden some more. He faintly heard his captors grunt as they didn't manage to make his surface budge. So they settled for dragging him away.

The Prototype exhaled in frustration. The small struggle had left him with almost no energy. He had to rest some more. But then he was going to escape, get away. And rain havoc on Blackwatch.

He faded back to darkness once again.

* * *

Alex awoke once again to something wet being pressed against his face. His body was feeling lighter, but also more energized. He groaned as he slowly pried his eyes open.

The world was blurry and dark, with only little light being cast over his form. Something cold and wet was on his forehead.

He didn't like water, but for the moment the feeling was quite soothing. He tried to enjoy it for a little moment longer, but his returning senses were quickly overwhelmed with the stench of decay and rot, but he was damn sure he wasn't in the sewers. Hives smelled similar, but he was also certain this wasn't in a Hive. After all, didn't Blackwatch get to him?

Alex gagged as the scent became stronger the more his senses began to work again, and awkwardly draped his arm over his face to smother the stench.

Somebody began speaking next to him, voice soft and soothing, but also hushed. Alex still couldn't understand what they were saying, but then he heard somebody shuffle farther away from his current position.

The Prototype flinched at the loud sound of metal on metal. Whoever had approached them talked in a guttural language, snapping something that sounded pretty much like diarrhoea would sound if it was a language.

The first voice spoke up again, angrier this time and the second voice replied enraged. Alex' body bristled, but he could barely move.

A third voice chimed in, loud and furious, and the second speaker snarled once before retreating, but not before he spat at Alex' body.

The virus bristled as the vile substance made contact with him, quickly twisting to flick it off.

He remained still for another while, listening to the frantic beating of a heart nearby and harsh pants. The first one was still around, still next to him. Alex scowled, willing his head to clear up. Luckily for him, his brain or whatever tissue he had instead of a brain was reconstructing itself fast enough to clear his senses.

He felt the wetness on his head vanish for a moment, he heard the sloshing of water, then the cold wetness was back.

Slowly, he dragged his arm off his face, trying to focus on whoever was close-by. A face swam into his line of vision, and he needed a moment to completely focus.

It was a man, tall, with dark hair and a goatee.

He said something with a strained voice, trying to sound as soothing as possible.

Alex frowned, trying to understand the man, but he couldn't understand what he was saying. But his ears were working again, so maybe he just didn't manage to recognize the language?

The man was kneeling next to him, his breathing was laboured. He winced on each movement, but he still tried to prevent it from showing on his face.

Alex narrowed his eyes, checking the stranger. He was badly hurt, he realized. One leg was at a wrong angle and he had deep gashes and wounds all across his body, plainly visible beneath his torn clothes. About half of the injuries already looked inflamed and Alex could actually see maggots crawling in the man's flesh.

The Prototype's nose twitched once as he took in more information. The man's heart was beating erratically, his lung sounded half-collapsed and there was an infection racing through his body.

He was half-dead already, Alex realized.

The man tried to force a smile, saying something to him in that strange language. By now the virus had understood that he wasn't Blackwatch, but who was he?

The man suddenly pitched to the side, breaking into a coughing fit. Alex just watched how the man began retching, throwing up chunks of flesh and blood.

His mind came to a screeching stand-still as his eyes found the red splatters on the floor.

The man noticed his stare and cleared his throat, wiping away the blood with his sleeve. He forced a smile, saying something, probably trying to reassure the sentient virus.

But Alex didn't reply. His eyes were zooming in on the blood on the floor. He slowly moved his gaze upwards, staring at the man. Fresh. Warm. _Alive_.

His insides coiled together painfully, his body churned violently.

He was so _hungry_.

The man spoke again, moving his hand to Alex's shoulder, giving him a light squeeze.

And Alex' mind snapped.

His body moved on its own, lurching upwards at an incredible speed. He heard the man give a startled gasp, but he couldn't stop. Not now.

The Blacklight Virus seized the man's collar with an iron grip, slamming him into the floor. He was dimly aware that his captors had stopped their conversation, were probably coming here at the moment, but he didn't care.

He pinned the man against the floor beneath his body, snarling like the rabid animal he was. The man was struggling against him, fear evident on his face, but Alex didn't let him go.

His feeding tendrils broke from his back and stabbed downwards into the warm body. The man gave a pained outcry as Blacklight began flooding into his body, infecting everything it came into contact with. The man was still struggling beneath him, but it only enticed him to drive his tendrils deeper, to turn his flesh into his own.

The Blacklight Virus was still weak and the infection took longer than normal, all the while the man was thrashing against the Prototype, screaming in pain. But in the end, the most dangerous being of Manhattan was stronger. He transformed his prey into Blacklight Biomass and hungrily slurped it up, down to the last bit. Alex didn't pay attention to the memories that shot through his brain, simply shoving them to the back of his mind as he concentrated on the satisfaction when his Biomass was replenished. He was staggered by the feeling of being complete again, but he was still far from being sated.

Alex' vision dipped into blue and orange as he stood up and turned around, eyes scanning the surrounding. It looked like he was in a cage made from rusted metal. There was straw on the floor and now a blood stain too.

His eyes narrowed on the hot-white spot a few feet away from him. A campfire? So he wasn't in Manhattan. However, what interested him in the moment were the three warm spots next to the fire.

It were three human-sized beings that backed away when Alex moved towards them. He snarled and kicked the metal bars once, breaking the cage as he stepped outside. His claws were formed within a moment and the three creatures took stepped back in utter terror.

The virus' lips twitched up into a cruel smirk.

 _Dinner was served._

* * *

Alex was running.

He had decimated and consumed the three creatures that were in that camp before he realized that the area was much too open. Paranoia had set in and the virus had escaped, running down the hill the camp was situated on and turned for the rocky cliffs jutting out of the plains a few miles away from him.

He wondered where he was and how fast Blackwatch would find him, so he decided to hide before he would tackle the memories of his latest victims. His body began to shift to help him move faster and the ground beneath caved in from the force of his steps.

But there wasn't a street or city around. He was in a wide open plain, with only thick grass accompanying him. Occasionally, he would vault over some larger boulders or dodge a small group of trees. But other than that he didn't find anything. He noticed how the sky was slowly changing colours to hint at the upcoming dawn.

He wondered whether he was in the mid-western of the USA and whether Blackwatch had brought him here.  
But then he wondered why the hell he woke up in a small camp inside a _cage_ of all things with a human next to him that allowed him to regain Biomass and strength.

His neck crawled and he moved faster when his paranoia returned together with the slowly rising sun. The plains were much too open. He had to get into some cover before Blackwatch would send its Apaches after him.

So when he reached the cliffs, he quickly scanned its surface for any opening large enough to accommodate him, even while he ran up on its surface. Lime rock shattered beneath his feet as he forced his body higher, sticking to the surface against everything he knew about gravity. About a hundred feet off the ground he spotted an opening, around eight feet wide and nine tall. It led into a small niche, only about ten feet deep. But it was better than being out in plain view and from here he could survey the plains around. He certainly didn't want any surprises when he was trying to figure out where he was.

Alex slipped inside the niche and sat down against the hind wall. He exhaled once and closed his eyes, searching for the latest memories added to his collection.

He wasn't sure what those creatures were, but given the fact that they managed to operate a cage and get a bonfire going did mean that they had suitable memories.

Images flashed in front of his eyes, memories like those of all the men he devoured.

But there was something off. The creatures he devoured, their memories were...fragmented. Incomplete. Damaged. They consisted to large parts merely of pain, of hunger, of fear and hatred.

Alex frowned at that, focusing a bit more. They had brains and were quite capable of surviving without help, even blacksmith their own equipments, but they could not operate without direct orders. Without someone to guide them, they were useless as their intense hatred for any other living being and especially themselves prevented them from working together.

And they were _Orcs_. Real-Life _Orcs_ , called _Uruk-Hai_ in their language.

Alex had learnt that these creatures had no real name for the country they were in, just that they called it 'Human Land' and that they were waiting for the orders of their Master, the Great Eye. But from what they've seen, the Blacklight Prototype was getting the sinking feeling that he wasn't anywhere in the States. And, given the fact that they were _Orcs_ , he was pretty sure he wasn't anywhere on Earth anymore.

But still, he tackled the memories of the man with the goatee for more information.

Pictures shot through his head, images of a life accompanied by ideas and thoughts.

 _A young boy named Arundín, growing up to be a handsome young man, a Ranger of the area of Eriador, within the wide lands of Middle Earth. He was quite proud of his work, was proud to work under the Ranger chieftain Aragorn, son of Arathorn and Heir to Isildur._

Alex scowled, feeling his fears confirmed with this, still, he delved in deeper.

 _Arundín met a wonderful woman and married her, raising two children with her. Then graves, hidden in the snow, a lone Ranger standing in front of them, weeping for the family he lost. Aragorn and some other Rangers were there, comforting him. Years passed by and Arundín discovered an Orc encampment. He had never been reckless, but the foul creatures still managed to discover him, and after a short skirmish, Arundín found himself captured by them.  
Blades dug into his flesh, branding irons seared his skin, trying to break him, but Arundín didn't tell them anything. His captors threw him into this cage, only feeding him sparsely. The Ranger never let go of the hope of getting free once again, even when the Orcs kept torturing him, even when his wounds became infected. And then the Orcs dragged another man into his prison. A man in a hood and leather jacket._

Alex paused, frowning at seeing himself being flung into the cage like a sack of potatoes. He wasn't used to see himself that vulnerable, that weak.

 _Arundín didn't know whether the man was even alive, but the Orcs said he twitched when they found him, so he tried his best to wake him. He saw how he eventually moved, groaning as he draped his arm over his face. He told him to stay calm as he was trying to help him. One of their captors came there, smashing his club against the cage, shouting at them, calling them names. Arundín snapped, shouting at his captor while also trying to bring his body between the Orc and the other man. Luckily, one of the Orc's brethren called him back, reminding him that they'd have fun with the fresh meat later on._

 _Arundín noticed how the man looked up at him, he saw how glassy blue eyes watched him closely. The man was confused and weak, blinking slowly at him.  
And then the Ranger broke down coughing, throwing up chunks of blood. He knew he didn't have too much time left, but he had to help this unfortunate soul, he had to get him out of here before the Orcs could hurt him just like they hurt the Ranger. And suddenly he felt something change. He turned to see the man stare at the ground. No...he stared at the blood. Arundín tried to reassure him, to tell him that everything was alright, but then the man's eyes moved up and locked on his face._

 _The eyes of a predator._

 _And suddenly the man lunged at the Ranger, pinning him beneath his body with far more speed and power a man should have. Arundín saw the madness burning on the other's face, saw the raw hunger clearly evident behind his ice-like blue eyes. With fear he saw the black...things emerge from the other's back. When they slammed into his flesh, all Arundín felt was pain. And panic._

 _He struggled, tried to break free, however, the creature with the face of a man was too strong._

 _Arundín's entire body was on fire as he felt himself being turned, twisted, corrupted into something else entirely. But the last thing he saw was the face of his wife and his children._

 _And the Ranger realized that he was going home to them. He ceased his useless battle against the creature and closed his eyes, letting the darkness take him._

Alex scowled. This was what he hated most about consuming people. Always reliving their last moments, always seeing what they did as he tore into them and devoured them whole.

But Arundín- Alex suddenly felt guilty. He never did when he fed on Blackwatch Soldiers, or the Marines, or anybody unlucky enough to encounter him when he was in dire need of fresh Biomass. But this man was different. This man had actually tried to _help_ him, had tried to protect him against the Orcs, had tried to allow him to escape...And Alex had killed him, devoured him just like any other human being.

Monster of Manhattan indeed.

The Prototype chuckled weakly, leaned back against the lime stone and opened his eyes, gazing at the ceiling. He really was a monster, wasn't he? No wonder Dana backed away like she did. No wonder Ragland was always on the edge when he entered his morgue. No wonder Cross watched him with this guarded eyes.

And to make matters worse, he wasn't even on _Earth_. The world he was on was called _Arda_. And the people here hadn't even invented plumbing.

It was the dawn of 20th September, around two days after he got caught in that nuclear explosion, and Alex was stuck in a world where Orcs existed.

"Hell", the virus groaned and buried his face in his hands. "How am I supposed to get back home?" _'How am I supposed to get back to Dana?'_

The better question was how did he end up here? A few Sci-Fi enthusiasts brought up the idea of a wormhole having opened up spontaneously. Alex batted that idea down immediately, even if it was possibly the only reasonable explanation- as weird as it sounded. Maybe he was dieing and one of the people he ate had an overactive imagination and he was imagining all of this?

But at the moment, everything felt so real. It appeared that he had to deal with it. Somehow.

He sighed and got back to his feet, walking over to the entrance of his hide-out. No use mulling over that when he had no clue. He needed some more information.

Arundín's memories allowed Alex to catch another glimpse of the man's destination. It was a small village, several days' worth of human travelling from here. Alex scoffed. Humans are always so slow, he could cross that distance within a few hours.

He stopped before he even started running. Maybe he should get some money and a different outfit before he moved into town.

He turned that thought over in his head. He never had needed money, but he knew it was important to have some. And Arundín did have some coins with him that the Orcs didn't take.

Alex' body squirmed, his tendrils starting to writhe around anything he couldn't break down into raw Biomass. Like plastic. Like Metal.

His body shivered once as the Orc's armour plates and their weapons were discarded from his Biomass. Twisted Metal bounced off the floor and dropped down the cliff, falling out of his sight. More tendrils writhed along his arm, settling down a small amount of coins into his hand.

Alex eyed them indifferently before turning his attention to his leather jacket and jeans. He needed a different outfit. He couldn't just march into some medieval town appearing like he didn't want to belong here. He really would love to be someplace else, but he shouldn't look that part.

Alex sighed. ' _What the Hell am I even doing?'_ He wondered even as he began shifting his outer layers to resemble the clothes Arundín used to wear, while also adding his own designs to it. Not being able to wear something that his brain identified with himself made it hard to shift into it.

A few moments later and he was certain he had it managed it. He had a pair of dark pants, a pair of dark boots and a white shirt beneath a jacket-like hooded coat that was secured with a belt along his hips. He also added the white stripes and the red tribal of his normal jacket to it. He glanced around for any witnesses before he leapt out of his hideout and turned South.

He still hoped that it was some sort of dream he would wake up from soon.

* * *

Two hours later and he was still in this dream, realizing that this was indeed reality and he just had to deal with it. He ground his teeth together angrily as he added some more speed to his movement. The soft grassland and bushes flew past as he sprinted along the open plains. Trees and rocks were vaulted over, dodged altogether or brutally smashed to bits.

Alex exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the wind whipping on his clothes and whisking past his face. For a split second he imagined he was running across New York's rooftops towards Dana's safehouse.

The memory of his sister spurred him on to get home as soon as possible. He didn't see her once since he brought her to Ragland's morgue. Had she woken up already? Was she still unconscious? _Was she even still alive_?

He hissed as he snapped his eyes open and concentrated on the plains in front of him. He couldn't allow his focus to waver. The first and most important thing was to figure out how get back to Manhattan first. Then he could worry about Dana or Blackwatch.

As he glanced up, he noticed smoke rising near the horizon. He could even see a tiny village nestled in the hills.

So this was the village Arundín was headed to, and this was where he would start from. Alex lowered his speed gradually until he was in a light jog when he went through the main gate. The town's name was 'Bree'. _'And there isn't anything about cheese here.'_

The Prototype scanned the surroundings as he slowly walked along the main road. The people barely spared him a second glance and this was fine by him. It allowed him to get his thoughts back together in order.

Just where was he supposed to go now? Where could he get information on how to leave this world? _Was this even possible?_

The answer to the first question came to him quite fast and in the shape of a reared up horse on a wooden sign.

"The Prancing Pony", Alex read out loud, the foreign language rolling off his tongue just as easily as breathing for normal humans when he stood in front of the small inn. His memories told him that bars and motels of all kind often include people of all types. People who had some knowledge.

He stepped through and headed straight for the counter. An older fat man didn't bother looking at him a second time when Alex walked up to him.

"Good day." He began, struggling to keep his voice as pleasant as possible. He found it was quite a challenge, as he barely had the chance to interact with people other than shredding them immediately. "I would like to talk to the owner."

"The owner's me", the man replied. "Barliman Butterbur, at your service. How can I help you, master..."

"Mercer", Alex replied automatically. He was a hundred percent sure that there wasn't any Blackwatch around here and since he hadn't bothered shifting into another person, he didn't need to bother with a fake name. The owner's eyebrows went up. "This is a strange name", he stated bluntly. "I have never heard of any Mercers around. Are you a Ranger?"

' _Barliman Butterbur is a pretty weird name too'_ Alex thought. "No, I'm not a Ranger", he replied smoothly. "I'm just a wanderer."

"Well, then what can I help you with?"

Yeah, what was it what Alex wanted? Information. A direction. Somebody who could bring him back. Normally Alex would do this directly. Rip people's memories straight out of their brains and hunt down everybody who could know something. But here he couldn't do this in his normal Blackwatch routine. He needed to use a different approach, lest he wanted to get hunted down by yet another group of pissed-off soldiers. Also, something at the back of his mind baulked at the idea of grabbing people at random and consuming them.

They never hurt him, just wanted to go on with their lives. A monster he might be, but even he drew a line there. He wouldn't tear innocents out of their existence just because he felt like it.

It also wouldn't hurt if the humans had no idea what he could really do. It was another type of hunting, actually. Not chasing down his prey and bring it down, but rather watch from the shadows and wait for a moment to strike. He had the distinct feeling that the guy here could have some information, but he wouldn't give them to random people. So instead of directly asking, Alex just said: "I'd like to have a beer."

"Of course, master Mercer."

As Butterbur produced a (somewhat) clean mug and poured some (rather questionable looking) ale in it, Alex let his gaze sweep through the dining area. Nobody seemed to take notice of him. Except for one.

His icy blue eyes focused on the hooded man sitting on a table in the corner, smoking a pipe. Alex had noticed him staring at him, watching him closely like a hunter watched his prey.

' _You know something, do you?'_ Alex thought as he took his beverage. He threw the man a challenging glance to tell him that he noticed him, before he sauntered over to his table. As he guessed, the man was watching him intently, never leaving his eyes off him. He wasn't showing any signs of aggression yet, though he seemed curious. Alex compared him briefly to a younger, less angry version of Captain Cross.

The sentient virus stopped in front of the table. "Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked, carefully watching the man's face.

Despite the rather dark interior of the tavern, Alex could easily recognize the man.

He knew him from the memories he took not too long ago.

Aragorn, Arathorn's son and Ranger Chieftain.

' _What a coincidence running into him already. Word is, he knows a Wizard. And if this world's wizards are like the wizards in fantasy, then he can surely get me to him.'_

Aragorn thought for a moment, not realizing that Alex already recognized him before gesturing with his pipe at the chair. "No, please, be my guest."

Alex took the offered seat and turned his focus back on the man. "I couldn't help but notice that you were watching me."

"I always check up on the newcomers", the other replied. "I am waiting for a few friends. You didn't happen to see a few Hobbits on the street?"

"I think not", Alex leaned back. "I think I am a bit lost though, didn't even find the street until shortly before seeing the town." He inclined his head, watching the other man's expression. If anything, Aragorn looked only slightly intrigued. "You seem to be knowledgeable about this part of the world. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

The Ranger inclined his head by a shade. "Not at all. However, it is only polite if you introduce yourself first."

"Alex Mercer", Alex replied, holding his hand out. The other man smiled and set his pipe down before shaking his hand. "I certainly never heard a name such as yours. You may call me Strider."


	2. Under the sign of the Prancing Pony

**Author: I'm glad you like my fanfic. It is going to be written in POVs, with Alex, Aragorn, Boromir, Frodo...**

 **EDIT: Original was uploaded on 29th January 2016, second version on 13th April 2016**

* * *

Under the sign of the Prancing Pony

The man known as Strider was watching the tavern with the same focused glance he watched everything. Decades of being a Ranger had bred it into him to be always aware, to always trust his gut instincts.

He had lit his pipe and was taking slow drags on it, wondering when the Hobbits would get here. He dearly hoped he did not arrive too late in Bree to intercept them, but his initial conversation with Butterbur revealed that there haven't been any Hobbits around here lately other than the town folk.

Gandalf had asked him to keep an eye out for a specific Hobbit. It pained the Ranger that he did not know about the Wizard's whereabouts, even if he wasn't overly _worried_ about it. He knew that Gandalf was able to handle himself quite well and that he didn't need him dogging after him.

But it would make meeting the Hobbits easier, since they knew and trusted Gandalf.

So he settled for waiting at the Prancing Pony. He did have enough money to pay for it and the Breefolk did know him well. So he just commandeered a table at the rear from where he could keep watching the entrance.  
Sitting inside an inn was actually quite refreshing from stalking game in the woods, he realized, but he dearly wished to be back. He was a Ranger at heart, after all, whether he was Isildur's heir or not. And the Prancing Pony was not the Halls of his foster father, the Lord Elrond, where he would wander about and find other things to entertain himself with.

As it began to near the later morning hours, a man came through the entrance. Strider narrowed his eyes on the newcomer. For a split second, he would have thought that this was a normal Ranger or a wanderer, for he certainly wore the garbs of one of his brothers, but a moment later he realized that he was moving all wrong. This man wasn't tired from his long trek, wasn't glad to have arrived at a safe haven. No, he strode up to Butterbur and struck up a conversation like he owned the town. Strider didn't even try to listen in, as he was too far away and the tavern was already very lively with the late breakfast for its occupants. The man had turned his back to him, allowing the Ranger to see the bright red pattern sewed into the back of his coat. It looked like a pair of dragons, but Strider had never seen such a pattern before, not even in the libraries of Lord Elrond. However, what worried him more was that he couldn't see the man move at all as he was speaking to Butterbur. Any other man would fidget with something, shuffle the feet somewhat or change the centre of his weight, but this man just stood there, like a statue.

Strider couldn't even see the coat lappets move.

' _Interesting'_ , he thought.

He furrowed his brows as the man turned around to watch the guests. He did appear like he had no care in the world as he slowly swept his gaze over the crowd, but the Ranger's sharp eyes picked up the scrutinizing glare the man used. He was closely scanning the present occupants. But what for?

Strider flinched slightly as the icy blue eyes landed on him. He knew this intense glare from the predators he encountered in the wild.

Most of them never attacked and were on their way without harming him, but sometimes they found his presence to be offending.

And when they moved in for the kill, their eyes would start to glow. He saw it in the man's eyes. The Ranger realized that he had noticed him staring and he was letting him know that he knew too.

But Strider was a hunter himself. He wasn't one to be easily startled, even as the man grabbed his mug and walked over to where Strider was sitting. He didn't leave him out of his line of vision and for a moment as he easily crossed the distance between them.

The Ranger found it disturbing when he realized how silent the man was moving. His feet made dull steps, but other than that his body was completely still. _Unnaturally still_. Like he wasn't of this world.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" The man's voice sounded smooth and almost friendly, but Strider could hear the low hungry growl in his tone, he could see how he was watching him carefully, as if trying to figure out what he was thinking. Interesting.  
Strider pointed his pipe at the chair across from him. "No. Please, be my guest."

The man took the offered chair and lowered himself on it. To an untrained watcher, it appeared like a normal act, but Strider could see the endless care the man used. His ears also picked up the groan of the wood as the man sat down. Those chairs were made to hold even a small bar fight, but they seemed to reach their loading capacity with this man.

"I couldn't help but notice that you were watching me", the man pointed out. Strider smiled inwardly. So he really noticed. Remarkable, since the Ranger was quite skilled in not letting others know that they were watched.

It looked like he found a kindred spirit.

"I always check up on newcomers", Strider explained. "I am waiting for a few friends. You didn't happen to see a few Hobbits on the street?"

"I think not", the man replied after a small pause, leaning back in his chair. The wood gave a groan of protest beneath him which he chose to ignore. "I think I am a bit lost though, didn't even find the street until shortly before entering the town", the man continued. Aragorn arched his eyebrows. So he came across the fields then? He certainly didn't look like he trekked through the wilds.

"You seem to be knowledgeable about this part of the world. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

Questions? Well, Strider had some of his own. He found this man to be intriguing, but he couldn't tell whether he was an ally or an enemy. He had to figure this out first before he told him anything more.

"Not at all." Strider said, "Though it is only polite if you introduce yourself first."

The man didn't seem to oppose to that request. "Alex Mercer", he introduced himself, holding his hand out, though his movements appeared blocky and untrained, like having been added as an afterthought.

Alex Mercer? This was truly a strange name and none of Eriador as far as he knew. Strider put down his pipe and took the offered hand to shake it. He noticed the incredibly heat the man was giving off. The feverish warmth combined with the deathly pale face and the sunken eyes made him assume that the man was sick, but he didn't act the part. His eyes were alert, his movements calculated, if a little blocky. He wasn't so much as a sick man, but rather a powerful predator in the guise of a human. Despite this, Strider smiled at him. He didn't like to antagonize others anyways, and before he didn't know who this man was exactly, he wouldn't make him an enemy. "I certainly never heard a name such as yours. You may call me Strider."

Strider didn't expect the other to snort at him. It almost sounded amused. "It's not your real name", he pointed out. "But whatever floats your boat."

Strider furrowed his brows at that comment, but he said nothing. The other man was silent for a while, obviously trying to get his thoughts in order. Eventually, he steepled his fingers and turned his entire focus on the Ranger. "I need somebody who can show me a way back home." His request was blunt and straight to the point. "I am sure I need your intel for that."

"Why do you need specifically _my_ help?" Strider asked, "All Rangers should be able to show you the way, if you can give them your home's name."

Alex scowled and waved him off. "It's not that simple. I need you because you are Aragorn, correct? Ranger Chieftain and Heir to some guy named Isildur."

Strider stiffened somewhat and his eyes became guarded. "Not many people know of this", he claimed, "And none of the Breefolk. How do you know about this?"

"It is part of my abilities", the other man stated, "I can dig up any information I need- for a price of course. But it is a price I am not willing to let you or any of the others here pay."

Aragorn furrowed his brows. The way he was talking about this _price_ he requested left a strange taste at the back of his throat. He watched the other closely, looking for any hint that might tell him what exactly he meant.

And why he felt like he was in danger.

"The point is, I know that you are friends with a wizard. Long beard, magic, robes, this kind of stuff, correct?"

And he knew about Gandalf too. This was...interesting.

"I actually need the wizard's insight so I can get back home, I think", the man admitted. "And since you know where he is, you will help me find him."

The Ranger felt his eyebrows rise upwards to merge with his hairline. The stranger has just given him a direct order, had requested of him to let him meet up with Gandalf.

He didn't even know him, didn't even know whether he could trust him.

Strider was not somebody to let harm befall one of his friends, and this man, this Alex Mercer, was less man and more beast.

"I am not certain whether I should help you", the Ranger declared. He was well aware that the man's eyes narrowed slightly and that there was a dangerous glint in it for a second, before he seemed to snap out of it and settled for a somewhat disappointed look. Aragorn could almost see the internal conversation he was having with himself, as if trying to decide on a course of action.

"A favour for a favour then", the stranger said suddenly.

The Ranger blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You take me to the wizard and I do whatever you ask of me", the man explained. "Simple as that. No tricks, no consequences."

The Ranger frowned at the man, but then he saw something hidden behind his eyes, something that appeared to be a sort of pain, a loss that hurt him very deep.

"There is somebody who is waiting for you", he realized. "Somebody you hold very dear."

The man across the table stiffened notably and there was a series of emotions running over his face. He seemingly didn't expect anything like his question and was debating with himself again. About what, Aragorn couldn't tell.

Eventually, the hooded man deflated and let out a huff. "My sister", he said. "She was...hurt before I found myself being captured by Orcs."

The ranger took notice of the fact that he was speaking the truth. But still... "Then what do you need the wizard's help with? I'm certain my men can show you the way home as well."

"If it was that simple, I could figure it out myself", the man snapped, his entire stance changing suddenly. "But it _isn't_. I need someone who understands better what happened."

He was stubborn about meeting with Gandalf then. Aragorn wasn't going to push him away. "Well, then it seems both of us are having trouble", he stated. "Gandalf was supposed to be here, he was supposed to meet the Hobbits I was talking about. But he didn't show up."

The man narrowed his eyes, scowling deep. "And that means?" He asked darkly. Strider felt his hair stand on end, but he didn't show his anxiety on his face.

"I am here to wait for them", he explained slowly. "And take them to Rivendell. The Wizard will arrive there as well, should he be still alive."

"And what if he isn't?" Mercer asked. Aragorn felt he was treading on very thin ice at the moment. And beneath the ice was a beast that just waited for him to slip up.

"Then the Lord of Rivendell can help", the Ranger offered. "He is wise. He will know."

The other man let out a string of curses in a language unknown to Strider, but eventually he settled for a "How long until the Hobbits pop up?"

The Ranger frowned, but he was sure he meant to ask when the Hobbits would arrive. "That I do not know of", he said, "But I know that they haven't been here yet. So all there is needed to be done is to wait until they arrive here."

"Oh what the _Fuck_?!" The man snapped. He was gritting his teeth and glared darkly at Strider's direction, but eventually nodded his head. "Fine. Let's wait for them then." He grumbled under his breath. "It's not like I had anything else to do."

"A favour for a favour, right?" Aragorn asked. The man turned a guarded glance at him. "I will take you to Rivendell, but for this I want you to promise by everything you hold dear to not even attempt to try to betray me." Strider leaned to the front, locking eyes with the man to show him that he wasn't afraid of him. "I want you to swear that you will not bring harm to my allies or me."

"That's a pretty big thing to ask for, isn't it?"

"It is the only way and you know of this. Neither Gandalf nor Elrond is going to trust you without me around."

"You should know that I could easily get the information I want whenever I decide to", Mercer replied with a cold tone. "But you wouldn't like my methods." Strider swallowed a bit, but an idea formed in his mind. For all the way this man appeared like a beast clad in a human shell, he was quite willing to talk first.

"And yet you sought to speak to me first, instead of implying torture", Aragorn pointed out, "Which in turn makes me believe that you seek for a way other than violence." The other was still glaring, but the intensity was letting up somewhat. "So heed me. Once the Hobbits have arrived, we will head to Rivendell, but the way is treacherous. If you help me protect the Hobbits, I will do everything I can to help you."

Mercer inclined his head. His eyes glowed a bit from under the shade of his hood. "Deal then."

* * *

Alex wasn't really sure why the ever-loving Hell he agreed to something as insignificant as forming an alliance with a guy he technically didn't know. Arundín knew this Strider person, knew even his real name, but to Alex he was a stranger.

At the very least, he was giving the Virus a direction, and from the lack of better possibilities, barring actually _devouring_ the Ranger, Alex was going to stick to his words.

And since Aragorn told him he was going to wait for some Hobbits, the Prototype was going to follow through and wait along with him.

Only he didn't anticipate that actually _waiting_ was so _boring_. Alex was a weapon of mass destruction, for crying out loud. His whole body baulked at the sheer idea of sitting around doing _nothing_ for a longer period of time. Sure, he did have several periods of time when he was idle, back in Manhattan, but that was when he hung around Dana, pretending to be her brother. It was when he had kicked back and had actually rested with only half of his awareness active, while he waited for Dana to finish checking for data. There have been a few moments when his sister had attempted to do something nice for him, or vice versa, but the young woman always shied away from him when she remembered how he dispatched the Blackwatch soldier in her apartment. He always felt terrible having scared her so bad, but he was determined to make it up to her once he was back.

But he couldn't allow himself to nod off now. He knew none of the people, was in potentially enemy territory. Alex couldn't sleep here.

But the Prototype also hated being idle, so he sought for things to occupy himself. On the first day he already checked out the whole of Bree, realizing that while there were still a lot of people around, he couldn't just go and start feeding on them. He wasn't a monster, after all, and while it was unpleasant to sit around and do nothing, it was quite useful to keep the natural breakdown of Biomass for energy under control.  
During the night he sat at Strider's table and looked around bored, waiting for the next day to come and for the Ranger to wake up again while inconspicuously he was examining his internal systems, checking whether they suffered damage from the radiation. He was glad when his entire makeup was revealed to be unharmed.

On the second day another Ranger appeared and told Strider of Orcs that roamed the lands close to Bree, threatening to attack the people of the land. Hearing this, Alex came up with a plan to fight off his boredom and prevent him from feeding on the people of Bree. He would check out the area around the town for Orcs most of the day and then stick around the inn for a few hours at night to compare notes with the Ranger. Being as fast as he was, he could easily cross the whole of Eriador within a quarter day. This gave him an enormous radius of action- and a wide range of hunting grounds to choose from. He had long since learnt in Manhattan that it was problematic to try to stay in one place. Blackwatch would quickly find him if he tried to hunt in one area more than once within a short amount of time.  
Well, here was no Blackwatch, but habits die hard.

Luckily, Strider didn't ask any questions when Alex would appear in the inn shortly after sunset and vanish after midnight again. The virus certainly wasn't in the mood to play _Twenty Questions_ , but he could see it on Strider's face that he was thinking hard about the man he had all but hired for body guarding duties. Just that there weren't any guarding duties to do as long the Hobbits haven't shown up.

Hobbits...Alex had been surprised to learn what those were. Small people with big hairy feet. He had once toyed with the idea of trying to assimilate all genetic strains he found around Middle Earth, but he wasn't sure whether he should assimilate Hobbits at all. Or how to proceed without blatantly eating anyone he came across.

He was not the Monster Blackwatch always tried to make him.

Also, Strider was always watching as long he was around. Not that it would be a problem- Alex was able to dodge a missile at close range after all and managing to duck away from his gaze was laughable easy, but something inside of his mind told him to be in his best behaviour around the Ranger Chieftain.

Maybe it was what was left of Arundín's identity.

At any rate, the Virus was well aware that he needed to tread lightly around Strider, lest he wanted to cause more trouble for himself. He has watched the man every time he returned to the inn and found him scanning him with a scrutinizing glance, sometimes furrowing his brows slightly when the virus would return a few Orcs heavier.

After the fifth day, Alex had decided to ditch the chair. He had instead hauled in a block for chopping wood for his new seating arrangements. It was comically to see Strider stare at him with an expression that all but screamed ' _What the Hell'_. Alex' reply was a shrug as he sat down and turned to watch the entrance.

But that was how they figured out how to work together. They were always tip-toeing around each other, always watching closely to figure out a crack in the other's armour. It gave Alex a little routine into his life, even if he didn't really want to play along and just get back home to Dana. He had already realized that things didn't go as fast as they did in Manhattan though, but were just as complicated.

Alex grumbled under his breath. Why couldn't things be easy for once? Just once. Or did Karma hate him that much?

* * *

It was around the tenth day after Alex had arrived at the Prancing Pony. The virus was quite dissatisfied with the entire day because he was forced to cut his hunting session short when he noticed the scent of rain. Blacklight hated water with a passion and forced the Prototype into hiding whenever it would start raining. So Alex had to spend more time in the crowded tavern and was left to his own thoughts when he noticed Strider suddenly perking up with interest. Alex, who had arranged his seat so he could keep an eye on the guests without anybody realizing, noticed the subtle rise in pulse and breathing. So he moved his gaze over to the bar, where four rather short people had arrived, talking to Butterbur. The Prototype pricked up his ears to listen to what they were saying, though his outward expression changed only very little.

One of them was silent, whispering in a hushed voice.

Butterbur proudly told them he had rooms for Hobbits. He asked for the name and the dark-haired Hobbit did falter in his answer for a second before he gave his name.

"That guy's name is Underhill", Alex whispered to his companion, momentarily forgetting that normal people usually don't listen in to conversations that are across the room. If Aragorn was showing any reactions to this, then he didn't notice. Alex paused, listening to what the Hobbit added. "He's looking for somebody called Gandalf."

Strider nodded sagely, taking another drag from his pipe. "Then these are the Hobbits I've been looking for."

The Hobbits, seemingly discouraged by Butterbur's comment that Gandalf hadn't been around for six months, first huddled together to discuss what they were going to do, then eventually went on to sit at a table and eat something. Alex and Strider both kept watching them. One of them arrived with an ale-filled _pint_ , drawing the attention of the seemingly youngest amongst them, who quickly ran off to get a pint himself. The overweight Hobbit nudged Mister Underhill, nodding into their direction. So at least one of them noticed them watching. Mister Underhill lifted his head and looked straight into their direction, before he pulled aside Butterbur, asking him about the two in the corner.

Alex focused a bit more, so he could pick up what they were saying.

"Excuse me", Underhill asked, "The men in the corner, who are they?"

Butterbur looked into their direction for a short moment before he turned to the dark-haired Hobbit. "They're Rangers", he explained, "Dangerous folk they are- wandering the wilds. The one is named Mercer, but I don't know what the other's name is. The people around here call him Strider."

"Strider", the Hobbit muttered, watching them with a guarded glare.

The virus beneath his skin bristled as Alex' vision zeroed in on the Hobbit's hands. He was fidgeting around with what gleamed gold in the gloom of the tavern. A ring?

"Strider", the Prototype hissed. His entire body was itching in alarm. "Something's not right."

The Ranger made a noise in the back of his throat as they watched as Mister Underhill began to fall into some sort of trance, his fingers slowly inching closer to the ring he was holding.

"Baggins?" Both men noticed how Mister Underhill suddenly snapped his spine straight and whirled around, just in time to witness the youngest Hobbit stand in the crowd, talking to the people there. "Sure I know a Baggins", the young one exclaimed with a slightly inebriated tone, "He's over there, Frodo Baggins."

Alex noticed how 'Mister Underhill' stared in shock at the other Hobbit, who continued as if nothing happened. "He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side." The listener laughed and the dark-haired Hobbit snapped out of it, jumping to his feet with a pale face. Alex recognized it as the expression somebody wore when their cover was blown.

Karen had a similar one when he found her in that elevator.

"And my third cousin twice removed, if you follow me", the careless Hobbit finished.

'Mister Underhill', apparently _Frodo Baggins_ , was off his seat within seconds and stormed towards his fellow Hobbit. "Pippin!" He snapped, seizing his shoulders.

Pippin seemingly didn't realize the grave mistake he made as he turned to Frodo with a grin. "Steady on, Frodo."

Frodo gasped in shock, stumbled over someone's shoe and fell to the floor, flinging the golden ring out of his hand. Alex saw him watch it soar through the air with a terrified expression, so he stretched up and caught it a moment later again.

He vanished, much to the shock of the entire crowd.

Alex swore under his breath as the Hobbit disappeared from his line of vision. He heard Strider's pipe clatter on the table, but he didn't care about it. His eyes flashed once to switch into the infrared spectrum, so he found the Hobbit once more. He was still there, only invisible to the naked eye.

' _I wonder whether this ring had anything to do with it'_ , Alex thought as he watched him crawl back, flailing his arms and scooting backwards under a table. He noticed how his pulse sped up and his heart rate became erratic. He then made a movement which made no sense to the Prototype, but looked like he was ripping the ring off his finger again. Alex furrowed his brows as he heard the Hobbit exhale in relief from his position under the table.

' _He was scared, took off the ring that made him invisible and now is relieved?'_ He wondered. _'Why?'_

His body gave a bristle of alarm as he witnessed somebody else appear next to the Hobbit and drag him out of his hiding. Alex was short before leaping off his perch and wrest the Hobbit away from whoever had seized him so suddenly, but he stopped when his nose twitched once and he realized it was Strider who yanked the Hobbit out, pressing him firmly against a wall. "You're drawing too much attention to yourself, Mister Underhill", he hissed before he shoved him up the stairs.

Huh. Alex didn't even notice him move. Sneaky Bastard.

* * *

Strider and his companion sat at their usual spot, keeping a watchful eye on the door. The Ranger was well aware of how displeased Alex was, but he couldn't really tell why. He had returned earlier than normally, dashing inside the inn with the look of a man who just escaped the worst thing ever, shortly before a rainstorm set in.

Aragorn wondered whether he had escaped the rain, but then why would he look so miffed about the whole situation?

He wanted to know more about him, especially what he was doing when he left Bree. He did follow after him on the third day after they met, only about half an hour really, but the hooded man was nowhere to be seen. He did, however, leave a track away from the town which the Ranger followed for a few hundreds of yards before the footprints began to deepen and spread further from each other. Aragorn had quickly realized that the man had started _running_ at an incredible speed, leaving extremely deep impacts in his wake.

It confused him, since he couldn't explain it at all.

He was starting to get a tiny inkling about what his companion did when he left, though.

On the fifth day, one of his fellow Rangers arrived in Bree, telling him disturbing news of raided Orc camps he discovered. It were only small camps, each containing only three to seven inhabitants, but there never has been a single Orc around. It looked like they had been attacked- judging from the chaos inside the encampments and around it- and then they disappeared, leaving behind twisted and warped armour plates, broken weapons and large amounts of blood.

It was on this day that Alex had put away his chair and used a chopping block instead once he returned from the wild. The block was much sturdier, but even it gave a loud creak of protest as he lowered himself on it.

An unpleasant idea began forming in his brain. It appeared that the man _devoured_ Orcs without leaving anything behind and could move extremely fast, but that didn't help him finding out what he really was. To the outside, he appeared like a normal man, but he was different on so many levels. For one, Alex didn't seem to sleep. He didn't blink when he watched the tavern, or even _breathe_.

Aragorn did notice however, that he did exhale when he spoke or blinked when he was surprised, but that appeared to be more a force of habit than out of necessity, really.

He was always watching the people around him with a scrutinizing glare, as if trying to constantly figure out who they were and what they were planning to do.

Aragorn had the feeling that beneath his skin boiled a primal hunger, something the man was constantly suppressing.

The Ranger had to find out more about his companion, especially whether he was a threat to him or anybody he tried to protect.

But he couldn't do that before the man didn't trust him. And trust seemed not like something he easily put into someone other than the sister he mentioned.

He pushed that thought aside and lifted his head in interest when a group of four Hobbits entered. They were out of breath, but two of them quickly appeared pleased while the other two looked around nervously. Alex had noticed it too and inclined his head slightly, while turning his focus on them. Strider watched the Hobbit, who he assumed was Frodo, begin talking to Butterbur.

"The guy's name is Underhill", Alex whispered. The Ranger couldn't help but blink in surprise, though the man didn't notice it. The dining room was loud and with so many people talking, it was near impossible to pick up what somebody was saying at the next table over, less what somebody was saying _across the room_. But still, Alex somehow did. "He's looking for somebody called Gandalf."

The Ranger nodded to himself, trusting the truth of his words. This was indeed Frodo. This was the one Gandalf had sent him here to meet. "Then these are the Hobbits I've been looking for."

They watched them walk over to a table to grab something to eat after they debated with each other. Strider kept his eyes on them. He noticed how one of them ran off to get a larger pint of ale, just before one of them (that must be Samwise Gamgee) turned Frodo's attention on them. When the Hobbit turned his attention to them, Strider noticed how his hands began fidgeting without him noticing. He heard a low growl coming from his companion, something he didn't seem to be aware of.

"Strider", the man literally _hissed_. "Something's not right." The Ranger made a disgruntled noise when he had noticed Frodo starting to close his eyes and slipping into some sort of trance, his fingers slipping closer to the small golden band he held.

"Baggins?"

Aragorn and his companion snapped out of their focus, both turning to look at the youngest Hobbit loudly declaring that Frodo Baggins was sitting over there. Strider almost slapped his forehead as he realized how careless the boy was. Frodo ran up to him to stop him from spilling more when he suddenly pitched back. The next moment, he suddenly disappeared. _  
_Strider's pipe slipped from his grasp and he heard his hooded companion swear under his breath. Despite himself, the Ranger found himself throwing a glance at the man. He was startled to realize that his eyes had started _glowing_ , but he wasn't looking at him. Instead, he was still fixed intently on the place Frodo had disappeared before, slowly moving his gaze as if following the Hobbit.

' _He can still see him'_ , shot through the Ranger's brain. And that meant that he could still get to the Hobbit. He was out of his chair in a moment and had moved towards the table where Frodo (most likely) hid beneath. In the very moment he had turned visible again, Strider had grabbed the young man and dragged him out of his hidey-hole, pressing him against a nearby wall. "You're drawing too much attention to yourself", he hissed, adding a venomous "Mister Underhill" for a good measure. He did notice Alex' glare on his back that made his skin crawl, but he decided to focus on the other situation.

He shoved Frodo out of the dining room and up the stairs, more or less throwing him inside his room. The Hobbit was on his feet and had turned to stare at him with fear and some defiance as the ranger closed the door behind him and glared darkly at him. "What do you want?" He asked.

"A little more caution from you", Strider replied with a somewhat breatheless tone, "That is no trinket you carry."

"I carry nothing", the Hobbit tried to argue, eyes fixed on the man with poorly-hidden fear.

"Indeed" Strider snorted. He quickly moved towards the window and began on to extinguish the candles around his room. "I can avoid being seen if I wish, but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift." He flicked off his hood and watched the Hobbit closely, meeting his eyes for the first time.

Frodo swallowed. "Who are you?" He wanted to know.

Strider narrowed his eyes only slightly, avoiding that subject completely. "Are you frightened?" He asked.

"...Yes", Frodo gave back, shuffling his feet.

"Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you", the Ranger hissed to muffle all sounds.

Suddenly the door burst open and Strider had whirled around with his sword drawn, only to find himself facing the other three Hobbits. Samwise was threatening him with his fists, the boy that carelessly blurted out Frodo's name held a candle holder and the third one was clenching a wooden stool.

"Let him go!" Sam threatened. "Or I'll have you, longshanks!"

Strider relaxed and re-sheathed his sword. "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit. But that will not save you." He turned to Frodo again. "You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming." Hearing his name made the Hobbit peak up, his blue eyes settling on Aragorn's face.

"Who? Who is coming?" He asked confused and worried.

"Yeah. I would like to know too", a new voice asked from the door. The Hobbits whirled, staring wide-eyed at Strider's companion who somehow managed to sneak up on them. His icy blue eyes rested on them. "I'm gonna take part in this party and you're not gonna stop me", he claimed as he shoved the Halflings inside and closed the door. "So. Who's making troubles, Strider?"

* * *

Strider sat at the window, watching the courtyard in front of the inn with a grim expression. Alex sat nearby and changed glances between the Hobbits sleep on peacefully in the Ranger's bed and the street outside. Strider only told them that what was hunting them was drawing closer and that they should stay together away from the ground level. He didn't specify what exactly it was, but from his body language, Alex could tell that he would find out soon. He could also tell that Frodo figured this out as well, since the Hobbit was sitting upright on the bed, staring at nothing in particular and only sometimes throwing side glances to the two at the window.

Alex narrowed his eyes and turned his head slightly, feeling his insides beginning to churn and twist almost painfully. Outside, four black riders appear on the streets and dismounted their steeds. The Prototype let out a low hiss as he flicked through a series of visions, but on none the riders appeared any clearer than just a vague shape, a shadow clad in dark robes. It was as if they weren't really here.

They rushed inside the Prancing Pony without making any sort of sound, or using unnecessary movements.

He could literally _smell_ Butterbur's fear as they rushed past him and his enhanced senses quickly picked up the sound their swords made as they stabbed the empty beds Strider had prepared. Their steeds outside went wild, rearing and neighing in the dark. But nobody appeared. Nobody tried to stop them.

The entire population of Bree was hiding in fear.

And suddenly, the hooded bastards _shrieked_. The Hobbits were awake in an instant, sitting upright on the bed and looking around wildly. Alex growled under his breath and wrapped his arms around his chest to hide the tendrils that started to violently lash out of his skin. He just hoped that none of the others would notice the involuntarily shifts his body was making while he tried to smother the need to form claws and just _shred_ everything around him.

Boy, they were pissed.  
The virus set his dark glare at the window, listening to their high-pitched screeching as he fought down the urge to maul them to make them _shut up_.

"What are they?" Frodo asked silently.

Strider eyed the Hobbits, listening to the shadow's shrieks before he answered. "They were once Men", he explained in a low voice. "Great kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave them nine rings of power." The Riders had stopped screeching and had rushed back outside to mount their horses and leave the Prancing Pony. Strider watched them retreat. "Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness." The pounding of the hooves had become distant, and the panic gripping everyone in the town was slowly letting up. "Now they are slaves to his will. They are the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."

Alex had listened to the story and snorted in grim realization. Hell. That just sounded like _his_ story in a nutshell. You just needed to replace 'Rings of Power' with 'money'.

So these things were Wraith, huh? _Ghosts_ in every sense of the word.

No wonder he could not sense their presence. He was designed to work on living beings, not on dead ones.

He exhaled shakily and forced his insides back under control before slowly unclenching his frame. He seriously hoped they wouldn't run into these freaks so soon, at least not until he had figured out how to beat them. Strider watched him from the corner of his eyes, but he still spoke to the Hobbits. "Rest now", he said, "For tomorrow we have to leave at dawn."


	3. A knife in the dark

**Author: EDIT: Uploaded original version on 1st February 2016, uploaded new version on 19th April 2016, and since some of you *throws glares at mentioned people* complained about me shanking Frodo, I changed that.**

* * *

A knife in the dark

It was around 4 a.m. in the morning when Strider stirred. The man hadn't moved an inch from the window when the Black Riders disappeared, nor did he really fall asleep, but Alex had noticed that his pulse had slowed down and his breathing decreased in intensity. He had nodded half off, the Prototype realized. It wasn't _sleep_ in the closer sense of the word, but rather a state of resting that didn't require shutting off the active mind.

But it still was a state of decreased attention in which the virus could have easily fed on the man and the Hobbits, or slip out and leave them behind.

Alex didn't do that though. He stayed there, leaned against the wall and waited for the hours to pass by. He stayed there and kept watch, just like he would keep watch over Dana and take care that she wasn't harmed in any way.

And Aragorn seemingly was aware of this, as he gave the virus a small smile of approval before he got up and stretched his sore limbs.

"Will you please wake the Hobbits?" The Ranger asked him. "I will go and see how Butterbur is faring. Last night must have been horrible for him."

Alex only shrugged in reply and the Ranger left the small room.

Once he had left, Frodo lifted his head and looked around. He didn't sleep well, Alex noticed, and quickly shuffled out of the bed to get dressed. The other Hobbits, however...

The Prototype cracked his knuckled, went around the bed and bent down to grab its frame. Without waiting any further, he hoisted one side up, making the three Hobbits tumble off it and hit the floor in a series of cries and pained groans.

"Roll out", Alex commented dryly, putting down the bed. "We have to leave."

The Hobbits grumbled under their breaths and staggered upright to get dressed as well. The Virus stood at the side and looked back outside, watching how the sun began to peek over the horizon.

Aragorn appeared inside the room not much later, frowning at the blankets on the floor and the disgruntled Hobbits before telling them that breakfast was served.

Breakfast, Alex discovered, consisted of bread, butter, cheese, some eggs and different types of drinks.

As they sat down to eat, he was quite curious about it too. He did wonder whether he could still stomach processed Biomass, even if he had no stomach to speak of, or if he would have to discard it out of his body.

After the first careful bite off the bread he discovered that yes, he could still eat like normal people. Biomass was Biomass, after all. It wasn't so different from breaking down clothes either.

It wasn't enough though, and completely unsuited for repairing damage done to him.

' _Gonna stick with life food for that kind of trouble.'_

He noticed that Strider was watching him again, much to his irritation, but at least he didn't ask.

Butterbur approached them, telling them that all the ponies had escaped the night prior, but he also told them that there was at least one man in town who still owned one.

So now, one and a half hour after they woke up, the four Hobbits followed after Strider, who led a rather sick-looking pony out of the town. Alex was trailing after them, keeping the area under watch. He was in good mood, mainly because Aragorn had allowed him to intimidate the old owner of the pony into giving them a discount on the nag he sold to them.

The other reason why he was feeling better was because they have found the Hobbits and were now _finally_ moving to this Rivendell place that even Arundín only heard of in stories and where the Wizard was supposed to be.

And this Wizard, Gandalf, he might be able to get Alex back home.

If not, maybe he had some insight as to what happened and the Blacklight Virus could figure it out himself. Even if most of his tactics consisted of breaking everything and everyone until he was the only one left standing, the real Doctor Mercer used to be a genius. And Alex had consumed several scientists as well, giving him more than enough knowledge to work in Manhattan.

' _But Middle Earth isn't Manhattan'_ , a voice inside his head said. _'They have no technology, but magic instead. How are you going to get back? Eat the Wizard and hope you can do spells too? Wake up, this isn't Harry Potter.'_

' _So? Then I figure a way'_ Alex mentally bit back, _'At the very least, these guys should know what makes this place tick.'_

He promised to himself that he would find a way, he would return home to Dana. And if it required him to follow a Ranger and a bunch of tiny hairy men, then be it.

He was going to get back home.

The Hobbits ducked beneath a fallen tree while the Ranger led the pony around it. Alex followed them, thinking that he really would prefer running across rooftops or up the walls of skyscrapers instead of crawling across plains at a snail's pace. Cross country trekking wasn't really his preferences, but he was going to play along to keep his cover.

He couldn't make any promises if they met Orcs, though. He did not have a weapon like Strider did, and any encounter with them could end badly for his cover. It wasn't that he needed to consume though. He still had enough Biomass from those he hunted the previous days, but when a man was killing Orcs with his bare hands, that was bound to be a bit conspicuous.

Frodo looked back, watching how Bree and the street disappeared from their view the further they walked.

He turned back to Strider. "Where are you taking us?" He asked.

Strider didn't even look back as he answered "Into the wild."

Alex was floored with the Ranger's answer. As if he hadn't noticed this after they left the street and headed for the hills almost immediately after leaving Bree behind.

He did understand the logic behind Aragorn's choice to walk through the wilderness, since these Ringwraiths haunted the streets, it was the wisest choice to avoid them (just like he would avoid Blackwatch Bases if he didn't wanted to get shot at). A part of him wanted to see how well he would fare against them, though, and whether they could be consumed at all.

Merry leaned over to Frodo, whispering.

"How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf?"

Frodo shrugged. "I think a servant of the Enemy would look fairer and feel fouler."

Merry paused and glanced back at Alex. "Well, _he_ certainly is foul enough. Something's not right with this guy, more even than with this Strider person."

Alex furrowed his brows, but didn't say anything. At least they didn't run away from and scream. _That_ always got on his nerves.

Frodo also glanced back at the Prototype that followed them akin to a shadow and Alex could see the shudder run down his back. "We have no choice but to trust them", Frodo mumbled.

Merry scowled. "But where is Strider leading us?"

"To Rivendell", The Ranger spoke up, having clearly listened to them, "To the House of Elrond."

Alex arched his eyebrows at that. He knew from rumours Arundín heard that this Elrond Person was actually an _Elf_ Lord. He was curious about the Elves. They were supposed to be fair, wise and immortal. Maybe they had some ideas.  
And he was also interested in their genetic makeup. The Blacklight Virus still wanted to continue to adapt, continue to become stronger and more powerful. It was going to get what it wanted, but the Prototype still mulled over as to how he was going to do that without killing anybody.

Well, maybe he could get some blood off them. Blood, while not the best place for DNA, was most likely the less violent choice to get some information.

Sam's jaw dropped and his eyes started to sparkle as he turned to Pippin. "Did you hear that?" He asked, "Rivendell. We are going to see the Elves!"

' _So there was at least one of them who is just as curious about Elves as I am.'_

He blinked when the Hobbits suddenly stopped, cramming around their bags. Strider had stopped and turned too.

"Gentlemen", the Ranger began, "We do not stop 'til nightfall."

"What about breakfast?" Pippin asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"We've already had it", Strider pointed out with a confused expression.

"We had one, yes", the young Hobbit stated. "What about second breakfast?"

Strider just shook his head, turned around and continued walking out of sight. Alex frowned, waiting for the shorties to continue walking.

Merry leaned over to his cousin. "I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip."

Pippin stared at him with large eyes. "What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them, doesn't he?"

Alex leaned down to speak to them at eye-level, voice seriously flat. "I wouldn't count on it."

* * *

Night began to settle over them as Strider led the group through a flat marshland.

The Hobbits were exhausted, Aragorn knew, but they couldn't rest here without any solid ground beneath. He listened to them slapping at the mosquitoes and complaining about it while he kept an eye peeled for some higher ground.

"God-Mother-flippin' _fuckin' Christ_!"

The Ranger paused at those quite... _colourful_ exclamations. He turned around and quickly found his hooded companion who was forcing his way through the sludge. He stuck in deeper than him or the Hobbits, though was angrily stomping through the marsh with no trouble at all. His expression was somewhat of a mixture between despair and utter wrath. Luckily, the glare wasn't directed at him, but rather the bog.

The Hobbits were wisely keeping their distance from him.

"Alex?" Strider called out, getting the man's attention. "How are you holding up?"

"Just peachy", the man ground out between his grit teeth, "I'm up to the hips in _fucking water_. I'm feeling _great_."

"You don't look like you are feeling great", Pippin pointed out.

Alex shot him a dark glare. "I was being sarcastic. I _hate_ water."

Aragorn grimaced. "Just hold up a little while longer, my friend. We're almost out of the marsh." He turned back around and continued walking, with the Hobbits following him. He heard the slosh of the water when his hooded companion began moving with a low growl.

"Can you tell me something about the sister you mentioned?" The Ranger asked.

" _What_?!"

"What is her name, what does she like. Things like such", Aragorn specified. "You know, you are not tolerable when you are angry."

Alex made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. "You haven't seen me angry yet, Strider."

"And to prevent this, just tell me something about yourself. Take your mind of the marshlands."

There was a pause that was only disturbed by the sloshing of the water and the buzzing of the mosquitoes until the hooded man finally snorted.

"Her name's Dana", he said, "And...I actually know very little of her." He huffed out as they continued their trek through the swamp. "I think I got...injured in the past. Fell unconscious. When I woke up, I couldn't remember anything about myself." Aragorn arched his eyebrows in surprise. He had no memories left? How was this possible? He didn't ask though and Alex scoffed before he continued. "I did learn that I had a sister, though. I went to find her. She was surprised, to say the least, but still, she helped me trying to remember."

"Were you close?" Merry asked.

"We weren't. Dana told me that I have been an ass to her, left her alone when she was fifteen and walked away without looking back. And then, I suddenly arrive at her doorsteps out of the blue and request her assistance." Alex snorted, muttering a curse in his foreign language before he continued. "I've been a horrible big brother to her, and even after I woke up with no memories, I continued dragging her into my problems. I scared her very badly. I didn't mean to."

"And then she was injured", Strider continued. "But you helped her, right?"

"Was my fault, really. A... _monster_ grabbed her and dragged her out of her home. It followed me, but she was the easier target." He growled under his breath. "I killed it and every single of its siblings to get her back, but she was unconscious when I found her." Alex' voice lowered. "I just want to go home and see whether she's alright. I need to. She's all I have left."

The Ranger nodded slowly. He knew that feeling of losing the loved ones. Though, in his case, he was worried for his loved ones' health. She was always so stubborn and too damn proud to do what she was told to. Dana sounded like she and Arwen would get along just fine.

"Is there someone you can trust who takes care of her?" He asked over his shoulder.

"I think so", the other man replied. "There's Ragland. He's the doctor taking care of her. I don't think he would harm her." He paused. "And I guess there's Cross too. I just hope he keeps his word and holds his damn soldiers away from Dana."

"Soldiers? Is there a war going on in your home?" Pippin asked confused.

"Something like that", Alex explained, "Men versus Monsters, and I'm right in the middle. To put it short, I'm a wanted man. Both sides would love to have my head on a silver platter." He snorted. "Understandably though. I did murder quite a lot of them."

"WHAT?!" Merry and Pippin squeaked and Sam went in front of Frodo to protect him. "You are a murderer?"

"I just defended myself. They came after _me_ , without telling me why. I had to figure it out on my own, and even when I did, it still made no sense. I'm not the bad guy in that story. The soldiers are."

"But-"

"Don't take everything for granted", Aragorn chimed in. "War does rarely produce a clean side. If you find yourself on either, you will claim that you are in the right. And if those men spent their lives fighting beasts, then every opposition they can not contain will be a beast to them and hunted accordingly."

He heard Alex shuffle in the sludge and felt his suspicions to be confirmed. He wasn't a man, but rather a beast in the shell of one. However, everything he did so far appeared to be strictly non-violent against him or any inhabitant of Bree.

If it was correct what Alex told them, then he was a monster in every sense of the word, but the soldiers that hunted him were far worse. Aragorn trusted his instincts, and they told him that he had found a powerful ally in the hooded man.

He was not willing to waste such an opportunity.

His feet finally met dry ground and he stopped at once. "Prepare your sleeping arrangements", he ordered, "We will rest here for the night."

* * *

It was the sixth of October.

Six days of _slow_ walking were finally over. Alex grunted and looked upwards, towards the darkening sky. He didn't want to walk around pretending he was a human anymore; he wanted to get back home to Dana. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, he wanted to thank Ragland for looking after both of them, he wanted to piss off Cross some more, blow up a Blackwatch base or two, feed on the infected, destroy Hives and, most of all, just run across the city as if physics never existed in the first place.

But from what Aragorn told him, they would need another six days to reach Rivendell. Six more days...Alex furrowed his brows at how carelessly he thought about a range of days that could make all the difference. He had taken three days to doom Manhattan, Greene had needed only a week to take over the city, Blackwatch needed only hours to okay the Nuke.

And here he was, thinking that he could afford doing nothing for an even longer range of time than he already wasted. He had been around here for eighteen days, meaning he already spent half of his actual life in a place he didn't belong to.

He just wanted to get back home.

But he knew he couldn't accomplish this _without_ getting to Rivendell along with Aragorn and the Hobbits. Well, he could always hoist the Ranger over his shoulder and just run there, but he couldn't leave the short stuff here. The Ringwraiths were going to get them faster than Alex was able to clear out a Blackwatch Base.

And that meant- regrettably- that he had to stick around and take care that they reached the Elf Lord.

As the sky became darker, the group had reached the ridge of a series of hills, looking at the remains of a building at the top of the largest peak. It looked dark and foreboding in the upcoming dusk, leaving a weird feeling twisting Alex' insides. He watched Strider as he stopped in short distance to the ruins.

"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sûl", Strider explained. He turned towards his companions. "We shall rest here tonight."

The Hobbits gave a collective groan of relief, while Alex checked the area closer. It looked safe enough, he decided as they walked past the cliff to get into a large open cavern beneath the ruins. He noted that there was a series of stairs hewn into the solid rock that led to the ruins above them.

While the Hobbits removed their bags and collapsed exhausted inside the niche, the Ranger looked around to make sure that everything was alright. He then turned and took a leather-bound package from his back to open it. There were four short swords in it.  
 _'I wonder when he got them'_ , Alex wondered briefly. He noticed the Ranger throw him a short glance that meant to tell him that he was sorry because he didn't managed to find him a decent weapon. Alex tilted his head and shrugged. He didn't need a sword anyways.

"These are for you", Strider declared, handing each Hobbit one sword. "Keep them close." While the Hobbits pulled out the blades checked them, Aragorn turned to leave again. "I'm going to have a look around", he stated with a grim edge, "Stay here."

"I'm going to go with you", Alex spoke up, crossing his arms. "I need to stretch my legs some more."

"You just walked the whole day", Merry moaned, "And you still need to stretch your legs?"

"I need a whole lot of action", Alex stated with a frown. "And quite frankly, _walking_ is amongst my least favourite things to do." He nodded towards Strider. "I'm not gonna go with you, though. I need some time to myself."

"Suit yourself then", the Ranger shrugged, "Just don't stray too far away."

"I won't. I'll stick around", Alex promised.

"Let's go then", Strider nodded. Both went outside the cave, leaving the Hobbits alone. The Ranger left first, walking farther away while Alex watched him. A few moments later he turned and jogged away. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he was still going to hunt some animals. He wasn't sure when he could consume next time once they've reached Rivendell, so he should stockpile up as much as possible.

The best case scenario was that at the beginning of next week, he could already be home again. Worst case...he was going to be stuck here.

* * *

Frodo was sleeping uneasily. Something tugged at the edge of his mind, prevented him from falling asleep. He had to, he knew. He was extremely tired. Tired from the days of trekking through the wild, tired from being always on the edge from fear, tired from always looking over his shoulder when he felt those icy eyes from Strider's companion on his back. But it was going to be over soon, he thought. Soon they would reach Rivendell and there he could hand the Ring over to the Elves, so he could go back home.

The Hobbit opened his eyes, wondering what it was that didn't let him sleep. As he lied there turning that question over in his head, he became aware of other voices speaking.  
Wait...weren't those his cousins?

"My tomato's burst", Merry's voice complained.

"Can I have some bacon?" Pippin asked.

Frodo gasped and sat up, staring at them with wide eyes.

"Okay", Merry agreed to his cousin's request, handing him some bacon. "Want some tomatoes, Sam?"

These fools had lit a fire and were huddled around it, eating dinner!

"What are you doing?!" Frodo yelped in panic. _The fire was going to attract_ _ **them**_ _!_

"Tomatoes", Merry said as if it was obvious, "Sausages, nice crispy bacon..."

"We saved some for you, Mister Frodo", Sam added, holding a plate towards him. _They thought he was_ _ **hungry**_ _?_

The Ring-Bearer was on his feet in an instant. "Put it out, you fools!" he shouted in panic, stomping down on the fire to smother it. "Put it out!" _The fire was going to lure_ _ **them**_ _here!_

"Oh that's nice" Pippin complained, "Ash on my tomatoes."

A series of loud screeches echoed through the night.

Frodo whirled around, running to the edge of the cavern and stared down. His insides felt as if they were on ice and his stomach dropped to his knees. His fellow Hobbits stopped next to him, breath hitching as they became aware of the massive mistake they made.

Five Nazgûl moved towards the cliff they were on, floating over the mist-covered ground with a startling speed.

Frodo drew his sword in panic. "Go!" He ordered. The others drew their swords as well before all of them started running up the stairs to the top.

Here they stopped, realizing that they stood on a flat plateau of maybe forty feet on either side. The remains of the watchtower's walls and several dead-looking trees surrounded the area they were on. They couldn't get any higher. They were _trapped_ here.

The Hobbits whirled around when the wind howled, realizing only a moment later that it were the statues of kings long dead that scared them.

But there was no trace of the Ringwraith.

Frodo turned around to look at one of the windows and his heart stopped for a moment.

A large hooded shape peeled out of the darkness, stopping once it noticed them.

The Wraith slid its armoured hands to the sword attached to its hip and pulled it free, holding it in front of its face. Frodo gasped as its claw tightened around the sword's hilt and it took a thundering step towards them.

The other Hobbits slowly turned around and all of them backed away as all five of the Nazgûl moved towards them. Besides the clanking of their armour and the rushing of their robes, they were moving eerily silent, even as they lowered their swords and pointed the blades at them.

Sam aimed his sword at the Wraith, shouting with a trembling voice, "Back you devils!"

Frodo noticed how violent his best friend was shaking, still he tried to defend him.

Even against the Nazgûl.

Sam's sword clashed with one of the Ringwraith's. The other four watched the small skirmish with what could have been amusement until the one Sam tried to hold off simply backhanded the Hobbit, sending him reeling against a low wall nearby and knocking him out cold.

Merry and Pippin went in front of Frodo, trying to defend him, but two of the Wraith just grabbed them and effortlessly flung them away. Their strength was much too great.

Frodo was panicking, stepping back and letting go of his sword in fear. It clattered to the ground and he tried to run, but he stumbled and fell to the cold stone. He tried to crawl away, but he knew he wouldn't be able to escape them.

' _If you can't run, then what about hiding?'_

The Hobbit pulled the Ring from his breast pocket and held it in front of him. He became aware how one of the Nazgûl, the one that held back, turned its hooded head towards him and 'stared' at him. Suddenly it stepped towards him, drawing a long dagger together with its sword. Frodo didn't like the feeling the dagger was giving off, so he tried to scramble backwards, away from the Wraith. The others followed the first one, closing him off from any help.

His back hit a fallen column, signalling that he couldn't escape any further. Frodo was breathing erratically, almost choking and the Ring roared in his ears, demanding him to put it on. His entire body trembled, shaking and he had the feeling the ruins shook too.

The Wraith lifted its dagger, ready to stab him with it and Frodo finally obeyed the Ring. He slipped it on his finger, vanishing from sight immediately. The Wraith actually paused, but the Hobbit regretted what he had done.

The world around him was dark, blurred like he was in a completely different plane of existence. The Wraith in front of him no longer looked dark and dangerous, but rather appeared like white glowing men with crowns and long flowing hair.

They have been king once. Great kings of men. Frodo gasped when he saw their faces though. They were twisted, turned by Evil into hollowed-out husks, changed to almost inhuman levels.

The King in front of him still held his dagger, but he inclined his head, eyeing the Ring. Then he held out his hand, silently asking to get it.

Frodo just noticed how his hand began moving on its own, reaching out to allow the Wraith to take the Ring. He managed to tear his arm back, grasping his own wrist to keep the Ring. The Nazgûl flinched back too, quickly changing its expression to look royally displeased. It thrust the blade to the front, targeting the Hobbit. Frodo saw how the blade shot towards him and was already expecting it to bury deep into his flesh when all of the Nazgûl jerked back, empty eye sockets staring at something that was just behind the Hobbit.

A loud roar drowned out the noises of the Wraith world and made the Nazgûl back off uncertainly.  
And Frodo made the mistake to look up.

His heart almost stopped and his eyes widened in panic as he realized that the... _thing_ was perched right over him, snarling like a rabid animal at the Ringwraith.

It was a formless shape made of thousands of red and black worms and snakes. All of them twisted in a nauseating mess of flesh, grated against each other and crawled across its form without any discernible direction. The Nazgûl, overcoming their surprise, advanced on the creature that was still crouched over the panicking Hobbit.  
Suddenly, a larger snake coated in the same crawling flesh plunged downwards, seizing Frodo. The Hobbit let out a terrified scream as the thing grabbed him and yanked him closer, closer to its slimy-looking body. It was hot, hotter than a normal living being and the countless worms slipped along Frodo's body as if trying to enclose him completely. He did notice that they weren't slimy at all, but rather rough like a snake's skin.

Frodo thrashed, but its grip was too strong. It dragged him closer, until he hit its solid chest, then it leapt off its perch and soared right over the Ringwraith's heads, landing several feet away from them with a loud _thud_.

The pressure on his body didn't let up, but there was suddenly a voice, or rather, a mixture of thousands of voices, all speaking at once.

"Take off the _fucking_ Ring, Frodo, and stop struggling, God damnit!"

Frodo froze. How did it know his name?!

He felt those snakes clamp down on his arm and he found it was easy to make the decision. He ripped the Ring off his finger, not wanting to be any longer in the same world as this monster.

His vision cleared and he could see the true world once again. The Ringwraith had turned around and screeched, swords drawn to advance on the thing once more.  
Only it wasn't a thing any more.

Frodo blinked as soon he recognized the pale fingers that dug into his clothes and the arm that kept him pressed against a thin chest.

It was Alex, Strider's companion.

"Strider is coming. Keep the Ring off and your head down", the man snarled with his rough voice, even if he kept glaring at the Nazgûl. "I'm gonna take care of these guys."

"What?!" Frodo didn't understand. He had so many questions, but couldn't utter even a single one as Alex dropped him roughly and more or less _pounced_ at the closest Ringwraith.

He wasn't fighting like a man, Frodo realized. He fought like a wild animal. Like a beast.

But he was fighting to defend him.

* * *

Alex wasn't far away from the Amon Sûl, just a few blocks further south, actually. He had managed to track down a deer and, after a short chase, had brought it down to consume it.

However, as he held his prey down to bury his feeding tendrils into it, he felt a cold shiver run down his back. Instinctively, he turned around and stared at the ruins in the distance.

He saw the shine of a fire flicker and die out and he could almost pick up the Hobbits' voices.

And then he heard the screech of the Nazgûl.

Alex let go of the terrified animal and immediately started running back towards the mountain. He could see the Wraith ascending the stone walls from a distance, so he pushed his speed up even more. He could smell Strider return too, but he came from the other side, the side where the entrance to the cavern was.

The Prototype didn't have any time to use that way.  
Instead, he leapt against the steep cliff and continued sprinting upwards, cracking the stone beneath his feet.

When he reached the top of the mountain, he quickly scanned the situation. Merry and Pippin lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, groaning in pain. Sam was against a low wall and just in the process of regaining his consciousness. But Frodo was...Alex' eyes flashed, turning everything back into the infrared vision. He was there, pressed against a fallen column with five shadows that were the Nazgûl coming closer. One of them had a dagger drawn and was just in the process of stabbing the Hobbit. Alex hissed and dropped down, landing directly behind the short stuff. He roared at the Wraiths, getting them to back off before he seized the Hobbit and leapt out of the danger zone, landing further away to face the Wraith once more. He switched back to normal vision, as it allowed him to see the spirits better. They were still greatly invisible to him, but at least he could see their robes and armour better this way.

He felt Frodo struggle against him, could hear his pulse picking up as he fought on. He ground his teeth together in irritation.

"Take off the _fucking_ Ring, Frodo, and stop struggling, God damnit!" He snapped. Frodo froze. The Ringwraith approached them and the Hobbit finally removed the stupid piece of Bling from his finger.

He heard him gasp, so he lowered his head a bit, not leaving the Wraith out of his line of vision. "Strider is coming", He informed the Hobbit "Keep the Ring off and your head down. I'm gonna take care of these guys."

"What?" Alex heard Frodo ask, but he was already leaping at one of the Nazgûl. It wasn't the one that tried to skewer the Hobbit, but that didn't matter. He had to keep them off his back, no matter how long it took.

The Prototype tackled the Nazgûl, noting that they were far sturdier than a normal human being who would have been smashed to bits by such an attack. Instead, it hit the floor with a screech, forcing Alex to roll off its body and dodge a sword strike from one of the others.

 _Don't grow Claws. Don't grow Claws. Don't grow Claws._

The Virus scowled. He couldn't use his weapons or else he would blow his cover.

Luckily, he was faster than the Wraith and even if he couldn't actually see them, he could still dodge the hell away from their blows while trying to target their robes. They should have the same weak points as humans, shouldn't they? He growled again, shooting his leg out to kick one of them over.

The Nazgûl went down, shrieking in surprise when a second one slammed his sword towards Alex' head. The Prototype instantly caught the blade between his palms, snapping it in half with no great troubles.

But this was all the distraction needed.

Alex felt a sharp pain coming from his back and he realized that one of these bastards just _stabbed_ its sword into his kidneys.  
The Virus scowled and turned towards the perpetrator, ignoring the piece of scrap metal that was stuck in his flesh for now. He grabbed the guy and slammed it hard into the floor to stun it, then heaved it over his head and just _pulled_ , tearing the Wraith in half and dropping both halves onto the ground in disgust. The other four made a series of startled screeches and stepped back, but Alex wasn't finished yet. He ripped the sword out of his body and slammed it down into the bisected Nazgûl's face, sinking the blade down to the hilt and shattered it from the sheer force alone.

He let go of it and leapt out of the way as the Wraith gave one last screech and created a shockwave that sent the other Nazgûl stumbling, before it crumpled together into a heap of twisted metal and empty robes on the floor.

The Blacklight Prototype snarled and turned back towards the other four Nazgûl. These things could be killed then. Good.

He heard a shout next to him, noting that Aragorn had finally arrived. He swung his sword and a torch around, diving at the Ringwraith. The Nazgûl shrieked in panic and backed away from the fire, allowing Alex to go for them once more. This time, he targeted the one that tried to stab Frodo. He already killed one of them, he could do so again.

He bodily tackled the Wraith, throwing it off balance. However, the spectre recovered just as quickly as he did, and it went at him, slicing its dagger into his general direction while screeching angrily.

 _Don't grow Claws._

Alex dodged the blade and stomped the floor once, causing the bastard to lose its balance again. The Virus dove at it, but suddenly found himself ducking away from a sword strike aimed to take off his head.  
It couldn't really harm him, but with Aragorn now nearby, Alex didn't want to have to explain why he wasn't dead when there was a sword sticking out of his throat.

He whirled and kicked the Nazgûl that tried to hack off his head, making it an easy target for Strider, who slammed his torch against its chest, causing it to catch fire with a terrified shriek.

With this one out of commission, the Prototype spun back around to face the one he battled previously- only to see the dagger rushing towards his chest. Alex ground his teeth together and braced himself. He should be able to remove the blade before any of the others noticed and heal the damage over.

At least, that was the plan.

In the very moment the dagger broke through his skin, Alex realized that he made a huge mistake.

It fucking _hurt_.

The Prototype staggered back, staring at the blade burrowed deep into his torso. A wildfire of pain shot through his body, making him scream in pain.

 _What in the ever-loving name of God was this dagger made of?!_

His body protested in sheer agony, wanting to shut down to heal at once, but Alex knew he couldn't do that now. He had to get into a safe area first- and he had to kill these bastards before that.

White hot rage mingled with the pain and overrode his mind, forcing him to stabilize his posture to fight back.

He was going to kill every last of them.

Strider had already noticed that something was off, and the next thing Alex saw was the torch flying towards the fucker that stabbed him. The torch got stuck in its face, making the Nazgûl shriek in pain and terror. It flailed its arms and it turned tail to run away, hopping off the ledge to escape. The others quickly followed, jumping down the cliff. Alex swore, stumbling after them, but stopped himself from actually hopping down the mountain top. "GET BACK HERE!" He roared. "SO I CAN POUND YOUR FUCKING SKULLS IN!"

He noticed the very next moment that shouting after them was a very bad idea. Threatening them had taken the last out of him and his sight suddenly listed to the side when his body yanked all control away from him, so the Prototype found himself lying on the floor.

 _Huh._

Alex blinked in surprise, but still tried to roll over and push himself back upright. He still had to hunt down some bathrobes, so he couldn't sit his ass down.

"Alex!" Strider's voice sounded worried. "Alex! Don't move!"

"Motherfucker stabbed me", the Virus sneered weakly, "I'm gonna kill him for this."

"You won't", the Ranger's harsh tone declared and he appeared in Alex' line of vision, albeit somewhat fuzzy.

" 'Tis is but a flesh wound", Alex tried to argue, trying to get back to his feet and failing again. His body just _hurt_ so much. It was almost like the Parasite all over again.

" _Just a flesh wound_?!" Aragorn snapped, holding the hooded man down. "You have been stabbed by a _Morgul Blade_!"

' _So? I have been infected with a sentient cancer that tried to eat me. What can a piece of metal do to me?'_ Alex only growled in response and finally managed to roll over, forcing his knees and hands beneath his body and pushed himself off the floor. He had to pause at the sudden feeling of dizziness and wait for it to pass, then groped for the blade still sticking from his flesh and yanked it out, flinging it to the side. He watched with a frown how the blade sizzled and crumbled away to dust.

Strider made a startled noise, but he was there to drag him off the floor and steady him. Alex felt extremely weak and wondered why he wasn't feeling any better already.

"These blades are poisoned", Strider told him, even as he more or less dragged him away from the open, "Your wound is beyond my skill to heal. You need Elvish Medicine."

"Poison?" Alex ground out. No wonder he felt like shit. He hissed and focused to the inside of his body, trying to figure out the stuff that was currently coursing through his system, so he could adapt to it and render it useless. "I can- can adapt to it", he finally claimed, "Just need some rest."

"You need to get to Rivendell", Aragorn argued, leading the other man towards the staircase. Alex noted that the Hobbits were scrambling around and gathered their stuff in all haste.

"But we're still six days away from Rivendell", Sam chimed in, sounding worried. "He'll never make it!"

"I will", Alex bit out. "I survived worse. I just need some rest, then I'll be fine." He hissed as a new wave of pain wrecked his body. "Out here's not safe enough", he admitted, "Gotta need- safe place."

He flinched involuntarily as Strider's fingers brushed against his chest, fingering the stab wound.

The Ranger made a startled noise and Alex felt his arm tighten around him. "You have been stabbed through the heart", he noticed with a shocked voice. "Why aren't you dead?"

"I told you, something like that won't kill me", the virus ground out. _'A Thermobaric Shell to the face couldn't kill me_.' "They missed my heart. Why should I worry about it?"

He felt the Ranger stop suddenly and slowly turned his head to eye him. Aragorn's expression was a mixture between disbelief and utter despair. "Why should you worry? Alex, the Morgul Poison _doesn't kill_. It will turn you, drag you into the shadows!" He paused and his eyes narrowed. "You are going to become a _Wraith_ , Alex! You are going to become like them! Only the Lord Elrond can help you now!"

Alex blinked at the Ranger, realization dawning. He pulled his lips up in a smirk before he chuckled lightly. "That's what you are worried about, Strider? I told you, it won't work on me."

"Don't try to play this down! This is urgent!"

"I don't. I am beyond life and death. I can defeat the poison and I won't turn into a Wraith like them." He paused, eyes locking with the Ranger's. "And do you know why?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I _already_ _am_ a Wraith."

* * *

 **Author: Well, Frodo didn't get shanked. But I wanted to stab one of them. So why not the guy that survives being shot at with missiles? Don't worry though, Alex has no larger trouble with the Morgul Blade.  
**


	4. The River Bruinen

**Author: Before anybody asks, Alex knows Jack about Nazgûl. He didn't know that one should avoid killing them, less letting them stab you.  
**

 **Oh. And did you know they needed five days to reach Glorfindel in the books? Well, in the movie too if you listen carefully to what Sam said after the whole stabbing incident, but the movie also made it look like they reached Arwen at the same night.  
Which they didn't.**

 **EDIT: Uploaded original version on 5th February 2016, updated on 19th April 2016**

* * *

The River Bruinen

Aragorn froze as he heard what his companion said. He just said he was a _Wraith_ just like the Nazgûl, in a tone others talked about the sky being blue. Just like this.

 _I already am a Wraith_.

Five words, spoken with a serious tone. It wasn't a lie. It was the _truth_.

And suddenly everything made sense. The hooded man didn't breathe, didn't sleep, didn't require eating or drinking. He could effortlessly vanish from sight or sneak up on others. He loathed water, just like the Nazgûl and was able to find Frodo once he was hidden by the Ring's power.

Taken together, he showed the same characteristics as one of the Nine, effectively making him one of them.

But...There were things that didn't fit into the picture. For one, even if he felt _wrong_ , Alex had a whole different aura than the Nine. While the Nazgûl caused the feeling of danger form the dark powers that gave them life, Alex felt dangerous because there was an underlying hunger burning beneath his skin.

Nazgûl were ice-cold, and any physical contact with them lead to the dreaded Black Breath Poisoning. Alex, on the other hand, was feverishly hot to the touch. Unlike the Nazgûl, he still had a personality, could easily disguise himself as a normal human.  
And, other than the Ringwraith, the hooded man was not slave to the Ring. He went with the companions out of his own free will and not because he sought to claim the Ring. More even, Strider did remember when he grabbed and rescued Frodo from the Nazgûl, then went to battle them to protect the Hobbit.

Strider grimaced. He had just arrived in time to see the man literally _tear_ one of the Ringwraith in half, then finished it off with its own weapon that somehow got tangled into his clothes beforehand. He had been so stunned from the sight that he needed a moment to compose himself.

And there was the other thing that didn't fit. Alex could actually be _hurt_ from the Morgul Blade, if his constant hissing and silent groaning in pain was anything to go by, but he didn't seem to be slipping into the shadow realm like them. If he really was a Wraith, then the blades should have no effect on him, yet they did.

The Ranger grunted a bit as he pulled the man's arm over his shoulder in a more comfortable position, though his eyes found the tips of his fingers. Black veins stood clearly against his pale skin, even if he seemingly didn't even notice it. He had killed a Nazgûl and the Black Breath was travelling through his body in reprimand.

The group was moving, leaving the Amon Sûl behind them. Merry and Pippin were silent, throwing glances at them, and Sam looked incredibly guilty as he led Bill the Pony. Frodo was shuffling his feet looking incredibly self-conscious. The Ranger knew that all of them felt guilty for what happened.

"Strider?" Aragorn blinked at the rather silent question. He turned his head to look at the younger man who tried his best to not completely hang on his shoulder, though he was only having a little success. He couldn't see his face, but he could see the tip of his nose and he noticed that he was very pale, almost grey. "Do you have something...to flush the poison out?"

"What do you mean?" The Ranger asked in surprise.

"Something to bind its properties", the other man muttered, "Make it less potent so I can deal with it easier."

Aragorn arched his eyebrows, since he didn't expect Alex to have knowledge on how to battle toxins. He appeared like a man who uses violence rather than wisdom, but the core of the question meant that he understood the process behind venoms and poisons.

"Athelas", the Ranger exclaimed. "It would help you."

"Gesundheit", the man mumbled, sagging even more against him. Strider grunted and struggled to stay upright.

Alex was _heavy_. And, as the Ranger realized in alarm, he also got more and more unresponsive.

That didn't sit too well with him. He said he can't turn into a Wraith, but Aragorn wasn't going to take any chances. "Stay awake, you hear me?"

"Not gonna fall asleep here", the other man agreed. "Try to. Not safe enough anyways." His body suddenly pitched to the side, accompanied by some very nasty sounding coughing and retching. Strider did his best to keep him stable, but he was aware that they had to pause soon.

"Sam", he called out, getting the Hobbits' attention. "Do you know of the Athelas plant?"

"Athelas?" Sam asked, looking worried when Alex stopped coughing.

"Kingsfoil."

"Aye. It's a weed."

"It may help slow the poison. Hurry." Aragorn ordered. Sam nodded and darted off, while Strider and the other Hobbits managed to drag their companion behind a series of rocks for shelter.

The Ranger was alarmed to see the blood splatters, but when he went on to wipe them off, Alex stopped him with an iron grip on the wrists. "Don't touch", he informed him. "Not good for you."

Strider frowned at this, but decided to let it slip. "We will rest here for the night. Do you think you can do this?"

"Not perfect, but yeah. I think I can manage." Alex furrowed his brows. "Don't be alarmed when I won't respond. When I rest, I kind of shut down completely." He pushed his body into a corner and pulled his knees towards his body. "I swear to God I'm gonna eviscerate these fuckers next time I see them", he mumbled. "There won't even be enough left to fill a Ziploc bag."

Aragorn had no doubt about this, even if he didn't know what a _Zip Lok Bag_ was. He sat down on a boulder to keep watch on them as the Hobbits curled up next to each other. When Sam returned, he brought some of the Athelas herbs with him. The Ranger thanked him and told the Hobbit to got sleep.

He was going to treat the hooded man as soon as he got hold of the plant, but it proofed to be near impossible to move his friend's arms away from his chest. After a few tries, Aragorn had to give up. He kept an eye on him and hoped that he would wake up soon.

They needed to reach Rivendell as fast as possible.

* * *

 _He was carefully moving down the 13_ _th_ _Street, somewhere near the 8_ _th_ _Avenue junction. He slowly moved his head around, looking into every alley he passed. They knew this thing must've been around here, at least judging from the Blackhawk helicopter that had been blown up. James Goodwin narrowed his eyes behind his mask. He wasn't aware that these infected fuckers were this crafty. The stories about the Runners never told about them blowing up helicopters or running up walls, for God's sake._

 _But Randall wanted this thing dead, and he was going to get it dead. The eggheads could have their fun with it then._

 _The Private clicked his tongue the very moment he rounded a corner and saw a shape slumped against the graffiti-decorated wall at the very end of this dead end. First, he thought it was a hobo, but then he noticed the bloodstains on the shirt and the black leather jacket and the hood._

 _It was the fucking Runner, but from the looks of it, it was already dead. Goodwin approached it anyways, and it didn't move._

" _Hostile sighted", he said into his radio. "Contact imminent." He didn't bother with telling his position. Their dispatching unit had wired them anyways._

" _On site, Ghost Team reporting visuals", his radio echoed, showing that they were acknowledging his statement. Goodwin watched the Runner._

 _It didn't move._

 _Still, the soldier aimed his rifle at its forehead and squeezed the trigger once. It couldn't harm to be more cautious._

 _As its body listed to the side limply, he turned around and clicked his radio._

" _What's the situation on that, over?" The radio asked._

" _Tango down", Goodwin commented, "Terminated."_

" _Standby, over"_

 _The radio shut off, but the Private suddenly heard something that sounded suspiciously like a low growl. He felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on end, making him turn around._

 _Just in time to see the previously dead Runner reach for him. The last thing Goodwin noticed were those icy blue eyes that were full of rage and hatred before his world was flipped upside-down and he hit the pavement with full force._

 _His eyes began glazing over, but his thoughts still whirled with full force. But once they stopped, they weren't those of Private James Goodwin anymore._

 _Alex Mercer grunted in pain and horror as he watched the body on front of him melting and being absorbed into his body._

 _What the fuck was going on? Why could he suddenly see what the man saw?_

 _Why could he remember his life, but not his own?_

 _His head hurt, but there was a clear thought flashing across his mind: There was somebody else with the man._

 _He needed to get out of here, but somehow, his body didn't move. Instead it...shifted. Changing into a nightmarish amount of tendrils and tentacles before it settled down. Alex stared in shock at the soldier's hands that weren't his own anymore._

 _But he didn't move. He just stood there, watching how the Lieutenant approached him. The man paused at the sight, then stomped towards him, waving his free arm around while clutching his rifle harder._

" _Report!" He shouted, stopping only a foot or so away from him. "Where the fuck is the target?!"_

 _Alex lunged towards him, grabbing him on the collar. The soldier dropped his gun in surprise, struggling against his hold. "PUT ME DOWN!" He yelled, kicking his feet in the air._

 _Oh. He could put him down._

 _Permanently._

 _Alex slammed the man into the ground and just senselessly punched a few times into his chest, completely caving it in. He felt the blood splatter against his body, felt with horror how his body was shifting again and those tentacles came back, snatching up the corpse and melting it down as well. Alex grunted in pain, clutching his head as memories that weren't his own raced through his skull._

 _Once they subsided, he got back up, changing back to his normal shape. His head still hurt, but he realized what he had forgotten._

" _My sister", he muttered in shock. "He knew where she is." He paused, his head hurting some more as the thought was finished with clarity. "I know where she is", he added. Alex lifted his head, staring skywards. "I need to find her...Dana..."_

 _After that, he left the alley and headed to where those soldiers kept his sister. He had to get to her before these men did._

 _Pain exploded from his chest, making him stagger back in agony. His back hit the wall behind him and he turned his head just in time to see another soldier approach him._

 _Without thinking, he shot his hand out, grabbing the man's throat. He made a startled gasp, hands going up to wrap around his wrist._

 _Alex felt his heart rate going up, blood rushing beneath his fingers as he clamped down just a bit more. The man gagged, saying something in a language he didn't understand._

 _ **Don't eat him**_ _, a part of his mind screamed at him, and he didn't understand it at first._

 _He yanked the man closer, hissing at him to speak the fuck English, but then his nose picked up the man's scent. He didn't smell as clean as Blackwatch Soldiers normally smell. He smelled of dirt, sweat, grime...and horse._

Alex halted, becoming aware of four other voices yelling in the background and his vision slowly cleared up.

The man he was currently holding in a choke-hold wasn't a Blackwatch Soldier.

It was the Ranger he met in Bree. Aragorn.

"Shit", the virus swore, letting go of his throat as if his skin was on fire. Strider hunched over, gasping and choking and massaged his sore flesh.

"That", he managed to grind out, "Was something I didn't expect." He coughed. "You have pretty strong grip there."

Alex furrowed his brows at the realization that there wasn't much that would have stopped him from snapping the man's neck. "What do you want?" He asked instead.

Aragorn held up some plants in answer. "You were speaking in your sleep, and it sounded...worrying. I sought to wake you and also treat the Morgul Poison", he explained. "Even if you seem to feel better already, it had spread throughout your body. It's a miracle you haven completely succumbed to it yet." He pointed at the virus' torso. Alex had subconsciously shifted his appearance in a way that a part of his chest was plainly visible, and the stab wound was just at the upper part of his rib cage.

Alex frowned and looked down, realizing that his skin had turned black in several parts, creating a star-like pattern with blackened veins running away from the wound. Oh yes. The injury was _still_ there. It hadn't healed yet.

The Prototype scowled, trying to push the black residues away, but discovered that his body had found its own way of dealing with the toxin.

It had killed off the Biomass around it and halted the spread of it.

 _Fucking Wonderful_.

It was maybe a good idea to halt the process of the poison, but it was utterly useless when all that he needed was to _adapt_ to it.  
After all, there were still eight of those bastards left and he could very well get stabbed again.

Also, the more his consciousness came back to him, the more he became aware that the toxin was _still_ painfully spreading through his body, albeit at a slower pace. His arm was hurting too, but not as much as the injury.

His gaze shifted from his skin to the weed in Strider's grasp. "What is this?" He asked, "The plant?"

"Athelas", Aragorn explained. "Kingsfoil. A healing herb. It helps against the Morgul Poison and the Black breath." He inclined his head. "It... _binds_ the poison's properties, to use the words you spoke last night. It will help."

Alex furrowed his brows. He did remember last night, albeit it was somewhat fuzzy. He didn't know whether his biology would react to medicine like a normal human body, but it was worth a shot. If anything, he could try to figure out the herb's properties through its genetic code and try to replicate the effect on his own.

So he slowly unclenched his frame, allowing the Ranger to proceed. The man nodded once and stuffed the plant into his own mouth, chewing it much to Alex' confusion.

He quickly understood, though. It was the quickest way to prepare the stuff when there was no other opinion available.

The virus turned his head, instead turned his attention to the four Hobbits. They stood there, swords nearly drawn and staring wide-eyed at him.  
He couldn't blame them. He did, after all, nearly snap Aragorn's neck. He was anything but _sane_.

"I told them about what you said last night", Strider mumbled through the mouthful of Athelas. "I told them that you claimed to be a Wraith, just like the Nazgûl."

"And their reaction?" The virus wanted to know.

"Fear, understandably."

"They have all reason to be afraid", Alex muttered. He turned to the Ranger. "Don't worry. As soon I've met this Gandalf person, I'll be out of your hair."

"Not as long you are under the influence of the Black Breath", Aragorn gave back. He removed the chewed leaves and pressed them quite firmly into the wound. Alex hissed at the contact, but kept calm otherwise. "We need to leave soon", the Ranger explained, focussing on his work as he forced the plant matter deeper into the injury. "Can you walk?"

"I should be able to", the Virus replied. "Just give me a moment." Strider nodded and turned away to help the Hobbits get ready while Alex shifted his Biomass slightly to start analyzing the herbs.

Like he suspected, it was plant matter. It was harder to infect and turn into Blacklight because of the cell walls, but he quickly found its DNA and started to break it down.

When the Ranger returned, Alex had finished scanning the code and managed to discover the sequence that coded for the medical properties of the plant.

He also managed to extract Strider's genetic code from the plant matter. After all, he had chewed around on it, freely donating his DNA. He wasn't entirely _human_ , though. There was a small part in his genes that wasn't known to the Virus. In a sense, it was quite similar to the Orc's DNA, though also vastly different.

He could ask him later on, he decided as he climbed to his feet, using the rock behind him to hold on to.

He knew that he would need some time before he would be able to replicate the plant's medical side, but he also knew that they couldn't stay here. With a low growl, he finally managed to struggle upright. Strider was suddenly there, offering him support. Feeling that he needed some time to settle down, Alex accepted gladly.

"Don't squish me flat, though", the Ranger advised him with a small smile. "You are heavy."

"I try my best", Alex gave back. "How much longer till Rivendell?"

"Five to six days. Perhaps longer if I have to keep dragging you like this."

"Six days, it is", the Virus gave back. "I should be fine within the next few days. Let's get out of here before these robe-wearing assholes come back."

* * *

It was night time once more. Aragorn narrowed his eyes when he heard the screech of a Nazgûl in the distance. They were still hunting them, but the group should soon cross the border to Rivendell.

He flinched at the sound of a low, hateful growl directed at the unseen Ringwraith. Their own Wraith companion had only become worse during the last days, despite his claims.  
Well, bodily he appeared to be mostly healthy again, but mentally he had taken a turn for the bad. He downright refused any of them to be any closer than a foot or so, refusing even Striders' help with the Athelas herb (even if the blackened skin had vanished, hinting that he had withstood the poison) and just snarled at them if they ever strayed too close to him.

Aragorn feared that his companion's mind was starting to get affected by the Morgul Blade, that he was going to turn on them at one point in the near future, but then he took notice of his eyes. He saw the hunger burning beneath and the raw rage that boiled along with it, but then he also noticed the look of despair and defeat mingled with the first two.

It was as if he didn't want to be so aggressive towards them, but sadly had no other choice.  
Why?

His throat hurt again, making him rub it absent-minded. Oh yeah. He did remember when he tried to wake Alex, but suddenly found himself being grabbed roughly. He had felt the raw strength beneath his friends' skin and he had realized that he could very well snap his neck with no trouble at all. What did _scare_ him though, was the fact that Alex' eyes flashed crimson. He had instantly realized that he was living out some sort of nightmare, one that had him fight his enemies, so Aragorn had tried his best to not antagonize the Wraith, lest he'd fall victim to the night terror. So he kept calm, despite the panic setting in, and Alex quickly recognized him and let him go in shock.

After that, he didn't went back to sleep anymore. He stayed awake, but the cost was that his mental state degenerated more and more with the lack of rest.

Since the last day, Aragorn felt distinctly like they were being followed by a rabid wolf that still couldn't decide whether to tear through them or stay loyal.

But he wasn't going to exile his friend just because he was scared of him, yet they had to find a way to contain his sanity so he wouldn't turn on them. That was why they had to reach Rivendell as soon as possible.

The Ranger stopped, looking around for a moment before he turned to the Hobbits. "We rest here", he declared. "Start a fire and keep your torches close. It will ward them of, should the Nazgûl return." He turned his head. "Alex!" He called out. The hooded man snapped his head up, watching him. "Protect the Hobbits. Take care that no harm befalls them." He paused, hoping that he got the other's attention. "Protect them like you would protect your sister."

Alex' blue eyes turned fierce and he nodded curtly. "Just hurry up", he drawled out, "I don't want to sit around here all night." Strider turned and vanished into the surrounding greenery. He knew he could still trust the hooded man, since he was still lucid in his reactions, even if he became more and more twitchy which each passing day.

Every time there was something moving in the underbrush, or they spotted an animal far away, the hooded man's focus snapped on the disturbance, requiring him to physically restrain himself from actually chasing after it to...Aragorn wasn't entirely sure what he would have done with whatever caught his interest. He was sure he didn't want to know either.

The sooner he managed to talk to Gandalf, the better it was for all of them.

Strider was moving through the foliage, looking for some Athelas to dry. They were very close to the Elf forest already, but they couldn't afford to slow down now. The Nazgûl were close.

He was deep in contemplation as he looked for the herb so he didn't notice the figure sneaking up on him. He did, however, notice the blade that was pressed into his throat. "What's this?" A female voice asked amused, "A Ranger, caught off his guard?"

Strider turned to eye his assailant, only to be greeted by a mischievous smirking dark-haired Elven woman.

"Arwen", the Ranger breathed in relief.

"Greetings upon you, my dear Aragorn", the Elf smiled. She furrowed her brows quickly though. "I sense dread in your heart. What is the reason?"

The Ranger sighed and took his herbs. "I travel with company", he explained. "One of us has been injured by a wicked Morgul Blade."

Arwen's head snapped up. "Then we must make haste. I shall accompany you to your encampment and see how I can help."

"He claimed he needs no help", the Ranger cut in, "Though it is of utmost important that another one of my Companions reached Rivendell to be safe from the Nazgûl. He carries something of great worth." Arwen narrowed her eyes and Aragorn realized that she must have been aware of what he spoke about.

"We need to bring him to your father as soon as possible", The Ranger added.

Arwen nodded. "Then I will call for Asfaloth."

* * *

Arwen followed her beloved Aragorn back to the camp. From afar she could already sense the presence of a large beast, a predator lurk nearby.

She swallowed hard, and Aragorn squeezed her hand in reassurance, his steel eyes finding hers, calming her down.

"I sense a beast lurking nearby, hungering for flesh", she whispered, "Yet I cannot tell what it is."

"A Wraith", the Ranger exclaimed, "And yet none of the Nine. Do not worry, I feel he would rather harm himself than allow harm to befall either of us."

Arwen stopped and frowned at the Ranger. "You brought it here?"

"He", Aragorn pointed out. "His name is Alex Mercer, or this is what he introduced himself as. "I do not know of his entire story, but in the twenty days that I've known him he never showed any signs of trying to harm me, or the Hobbits I travel with." He put his hand on her shoulder. "I know he is not human, I know he could easily betray any of us, but my heart tells me that I can trust him. And until know, I have not been deceived."

The Elf woman frowned even deeper at the Ranger, trying to figure out whether he spoke the truth or was enthralled by foul spellcraft.

"He protected the Hobbits", Aragorn pointed out, "He fought off five Nazgûl on his own, even _killing_ one of them. He has been stabbed by a Morgul Blade and still he refused to let them escape." He turned around, continuing to lead the way. "Arwen, if he wanted to betray us to the Dark Lord, he would have done so already. I trust in him."

"Then your word is all I need", the Elf woman agreed.

Aragorn smiled at her and Arwen replied in kind, though there was still a small voice in the back of her head that fed her ideas she didn't like. She believed in Aragorn's judgement.

Asfaloth snorted as they drew closer, forcing Arwen to calm the horse down. But she too sensed what made the steed so uneasy.

It was the predator she sensed before, only it was closer now.

And its entire focus was on her.

Reluctantly, she turned around to look at it, finding a man who was perched on a boulder near the fire. At first, he appeared like a man, but once she noticed his icy eyes, she took an involuntary step back.

This was the Wraith Aragorn told her about, the hungry beast waiting for a meal to pass by.

And somehow Arwen had the feeling that he recognized her as meal.

She could literally _feel_ the effort it took him to stay where he was and not just give in to his instincts. She arched an eyebrow.  
Aragorn had been right again.

"Who is she?" Arwen blinked and turned her attention to the four Hobbits, who had been huddled around the fire before and now watched her with surprise.

"She's an Elf", one of them muttered, eyes glittering.

"I have been looking for you for two days", The Elf woman explained, "I am here to make sure you reach Rivendell."

Aragorn frowned at her, then tilted his head into the direction a distant screech echoed from. "We do not have any time", he explained. "There are four Ringwraith after us. I do not know where the other four are."

"They are coming", the creature called 'Alex Mercer' ground out. His voice was deep and rough, rumbling like a distant rockslide. "They are going to be here soon."

Arwen noticed how he was rubbing his chest absent-mindedly, so when she dared to look, she was shocked to see a deep black injury on his pale skin.

She went right towards him, worry etched deep on her face. "Oh no", she muttered, fingers ghosting across the wound. "Aragorn didn't tell me you have been stabbed near the heart."

She froze at the sound of a particular deep growl and slowly moved her gaze up to meet the hooded man's ice-like eyes.

They were deep crimson, glowing unnaturally from under the shade of his hood and his lips were pulled up in a snarl, unveiling too many too sharp teeth.

"Step back", he hissed as if he was in pain. " _Slowly_. Do _not_ run. Do _not_ turn around. But step away."

Arwen was well-aware that this was the only warning she was going to get. She slowly backed away, feeling her eyes betraying her as she witnessed something like shadows running over the man's body.

Mercer hissed and turned his face away, struggling to keep under control. Arwen didn't understand what happened, only that she had to get away without agitating the man any further.

Aragorn took a worried step towards him, though. "Alex? Is everything alright?" He asked.

The Wraith let out a loud growl, stopping the Ranger dead in his tracks. "Do NOT come any closer, Aragorn", he snarled, suddenly doubling over when black veins started to show up beneath his skin at an alarming speed. He panted harshly, making Aragorn come closer in worry.

"I said STOP!" The Wraith snapped, crimson eyes flashing dangerously as he smashed his fist into the trunk of a nearby tree. His blow was so strong, it snapped the tree in half like it was nothing and the unfortunate plant tumbled to the ground with a loud crash.

The Ranger stepped back, but worry was still plain visible on his features. "Why?" He asked silently.

"Why?" The Wraith echoed. He hissed and forced his body to remain still. "It is because I have no restraints left, Strider. The only thing that prevents me from _violently murdering_ all of you is rapidly decreasing the closer you are." He hissed again, abruptly standing up. "I can't stay", he snarled, "Not without endangering you any further."

"You wanted to go to Rivendell", Aragorn reminded him, though he did keep his distance. "You wanted to speak to Gandalf."

"Not in this state", the man ground out. "My mind is all fucked up, _demanding me to kill something_! I can't go with you any further. Not before I managed to cool down."

Arwen could see his anger as he paced up and down several yards away from them. "Get Frodo to Rivendell", he snapped, clawing the sides of his head. "Get out of here! I can't promise anything anymore!"

The Nazgûl shrieked again, this time closer to their position. Mercer let out a string of words in a foreign language that sounded like curses. "Hurry", he urged them, "I can no longer fight them if they come here." He stopped in his pacing and snarled in pain, before setting his eyes on them one last time. "I will find you later on. Now _go_! Get away from here!" He turned suddenly and just walked away with great effort, not looking back.

Arwen let out a breath she had been holding, noting how the Hobbits slowly ducked out of the cover they had hidden behind.

"What was that?" one of them wanted to know. "What's up with him?!"

"He left", The Elf woman muttered in realization, "So he wouldn't harm us."

"Then we should obey him", Aragorn decided. He didn't seem to like his own decision, but still turned and took Frodo up to placed him onto Asfaloth's saddle, much to the Hobbit's surprise. "I will take him to Rivendell", the Ranger declared. He turned to Arwen, switching to Sindarin. _"You stay with the Hobbits. I will send horses back for you."_

Arwen furrowed her brows. _"Did you not hear your friend? There are eight Ringwraith coming after us. I am the faster rider. I take him."_

Aragorn shook his head worried. _"The road is too dangerous"_

"What are they talking about?" Another Hobbit wondered.

" _If I can get Frodo across the River"_ , Arwen pointed out, _"Then the power of my people will protect him. Hide him from the enemy's gaze."_ Aragorn wanted to say something, but she cut him off. "I do not fear them", she said with determination.

The Ranger squeezed her hand. _"As you wish"_ , he muttered, stepping back to allow her mount her horse just behind the Hobbit. Frodo made a startled noise in the back of his throat, realizing how useless any discussion with them was. "Ride hard" Aragorn whispered. "And don't look back."

Arwen nodded, leaning down towards Asfaloth. _"_ _Noro lim, Asfaloth. Noro lim."_

Asfaloth started to gallop away, but the Elf woman could still hear the other's voices. "What are you doing?!" The third Hobbit demanded. "Those Wraiths are still out there!"

"And what about Alex?" the youngest Hobbit asked, "What about him?"

More she couldn't hear as the wind racing past her drowned out any sound.

* * *

The night was gone and the sun had come up. Asfaloth was charging across the plains, refusing to go any slower. The horse knew just as much as Arwen did how dangerous the entire situation was. Even if they had no love for the sun, the Nazgûl were somewhere behind them, chasing after the one that carried the Ring.

Arwen grit her teeth and ducked over the Hobbit, who was clinging to the saddle in panic. He knew that they were coming.

Asfaloth charged right into a small forest, away from the open. Arwen risked a glance to the side, witnessing with a sinking heart that she wasn't alone anymore. Just to the left of her was a single black Rider, galloping along with them.

More Nazgûl appeared on her other side, screeching enraged as they caught up with her. The black steeds snorted as they began to come closer. Arwen panted, drawing the reins to guide Asfaloth around a tree and towards a wider path.

She noticed with a start that now all eight Ringwraith were behind her, trying to catch up with her and take the Ring-bearer. The Elf was aware that she would have no chance against them all, so she ducked even lower, ignoring the sharp stinging pain erupting from her cheek as a tree branch caught her there.

She risked a glance back, noting that the Wraith began catching up with her at a startling speed, screeching the entire time. She turned sharply, but the Nazgûl managed to keep up with her, chasing her down once they were back in the open.

The small head start she had bled away when the black steeds sped up some more. They were large horses, perfectly able to cross large open distances easily, whereas Asfaloth could easily lose any follower in the forests.

Arwen gasped when the Black Riders finally caught up with her, crowding to either side of them and trying to overtake her and the Hobbit to force her to stop. Frodo uttered a startled cry as one of them came closer, reaching out its armoured hand to try to grab the Hobbit.

A sensation of terror began crawling down her back, making her hair stand on end, but it wasn't only the fear of the Nazgûl. No, she became aware that something else had joined in on the hunt, something far more dangerous.

" _Noro lim Asfaloth!"_ Arwen cried out. Her white steed snorted once and pushed his speed up, bringing some more distance between her and the eight riders. They dashed back into the forest, where the Elven Horse could bring its smaller statue and higher mobility back into play. They dodged around trees, made sharp turns as they tried to lose their pursuers. They still followed after them stubbornly, even when Asfaloth finally managed to bring more distance between them. He dashed down a slope, galloped over sand and gravel and charged right through the River Bruinen, the border of Rivendell.

Arwen glanced back, realizing that the Nazgûl had fallen behind some more, but that didn't mean they were in the safe.

But here she had access to her people's powers.

Once she commanded Asfaloth to cross the River, she stopped him and turned him around, facing the approaching Ringwraith. Frodo gasped in horror, but he must have seen the determination on Arwen's face, so he didn't ask.

The Nazgûl's steeds suddenly stopped, their hooves digging into the shoreline as they shied away from the water, rearing up and screaming in panic. The Wraith shrieked enraged, but their leader turned its hooded to glare at the Elf and the Hobbit.

" _ **Give up the Halfling, She-Elf"**_ , it sneered.

Arwen scowled and drew her sword, holding it ready to strike. "If you want him", she snapped, "Come and claim him!"

The Nazgûl also freed their blades and urged their reluctant steeds forwards into the river. Arwen swallowed hard, but suddenly Frodo made a noise and she found herself looking up.

Something black was shooting through the sky for a long second before it descended and hit the shoreline with an earth-shaking crush. The Nazgûl had stopped and looked back uncertainly as something...black emerged from the crater it made.

Arwen and Frodo both gasped as the thing revealed itself, and even the Ringwraith were silent. Their steeds were snorting, torn between their intense hatred for water and the fear from the creature behind them.

It stood upright like a man, but it was completely coated in what appeared to be an armoured shell. It had spikes around its limbs and giant four-fingered claws instead of hands. Its talons were easily as long as an Elvish Short sword, but its face was quite literally _empty_.

It had no discernible features as the armour that covered its head was a smooth metallic-looking plate.

It paused for a second, head tilting to 'stare' at Arwen. The Elf had the feeling that its gaze lingered on the small cut on her cheek for far too long, but eventually it turned its attention towards the eight Nazgûl.

With an ungodly roar (even without having a mouth to speak of), it pounced at the first of the Ringwraith. Its claws burrowed deep into the black horse, causing it to fall into the water with a shriek. The Nazgûl was flung off, landing in a heap further away, but it got up and screeched enraged, though the armoured creature didn't pay any attention to it as it began to brutally tear through the black horse. Blood and tissues splattered everywhere, dying the water red as the creature eviscerated the steed. The Wraith's steeds shrieked and backed away, moving further up the river in sheer terror. Several long thick tendrils suddenly snapped out of the creature's shell and latched onto the carcass, engulfed it and... _melted_ it away. The Nazgûl screeched out in panic and their horses tried to break away as the beast moved towards them, claws dripping with flesh blood.

Frodo gagged at the sight and Arwen knew she had to act fast.

" _Nin o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer"_ , she chanted under her breath, ignoring the Nazgûl's screeches and the terrified shrieks of the horses. _"Rimmo nin Bruinen, dan in Ulair!"_

The water inside the river began to rise, but neither of the Nazgûl nor the creature noticed it. The Wraith had begun to slice their blades at the armoured shell, but the steel only shattered upon making contact with it, and the beast didn't even acknowledge the Nazgûl as it only was interested in the horses. _"Nin o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nin Bruinen, dan in Ulair!"_ Arwen commanded, ignoring Asfaloth's fear as he watched another horse being brutally dismembered and absorbed by the creature.

There was the loud roar of water, making Frodo and the Nazgûl whirl around. Even the creature had stopped for a moment, just to witness a giant flood wave shooting towards them. The Nazgûl shrieked in panic and tried to steer their horses away and out of the water, while the creature also seemed to become anxious. However, it merely ducked behind its claws and tried to brace itself against the wall of water.

The torrent hit all of them with full force, and Arwen watched with satisfaction how all of them were buried beneath the horse-shaped spray and literally washed away. There was a series of shrieks and roars coming from the rushing water, but those were quickly drowned out.

Arwen let out a huff in relief, knowing that they would be carried far away and into the Greywater River, if they didn't end up being smashed up by the many cliff sides on the way there.

"We did it", she breathed out, hugging Frodo. "We did it."

"And now?" The Hobbit asked silently.

"Now we get you to my father", Arwen explained as she turned Asfaloth.

When they rode away, she threw a glance back at the now calm river, hoping that whatever had attacked the Nazgûl was gone now for sure.

* * *

 **Achievement unlocked: Restrain. You are fucking hungry and the people around you just smell so delicious, yet you haven't eaten any of them. Congratulations. Now go find something else to eat before you faint.  
**


	5. Rivendell

**Author** **: Alex isn't doing any romances. I'm not sure why I read those Romance fanfics with him at all, since I do not see him as the guy who actually is able to fall in love with somebody. Not just that he'd probably break whoever he picks as a partner in half, but also about any bodily fluid his body mimics would infect whoever comes in contact with. So no romances for Alex. He doesn't mind, since he preferrs being a violent bastard anyways.  
**

 **EDIT: Original uploaded on 8th February 2016, new Version on 24th April 2016**

* * *

Rivendell

Three children- two boys and a girl- were running towards the river with gleeful shouts. Their parents trailed after them, carrying one basket each. Technically, they should be at home with the mother weaving cloth and the father crafting iron, but today all of them were going to go look for clams. They were delicious and easy to gather, and they hadn't spent any time together lately. It was still pleasantly warm, even with autumn progressing.

As they passed over the fields and moved through a small collection of trees, the man suddenly became aware that something must have happened. A few trees have been uprooted, smashed against those behind them. The ground was soaking wet and completely dug up.

"Has there been a flooding?" The woman asked confused.

"It looks like it", her husband commented. "But it didn't rain lately and the snow melting isn't for another half year."

"I wanna go to the water!" the youngest kid wailed. "I wanna wanna wanna!"

"Of course dear, but we need to be careful. It will be slippery", his mother reminded him.

"What's this?" the girl asked. She went to a bush and plucked something black from it.

"Looks like a piece of a coat", her mother noticed, taking the piece of cloth from her daughter. "A rough textile, and completely black. Who could have lost it?"

"And it's wet", the girl commented with a scrunched-up nose. "Really wet."

The father frowned and moved to the front, carefully looking around. He found a half-shattered sword dug into a tree, later they discovered more metal. There were more broken blades and soon they found warped armour plates, or metal gauntlets.

"Oh no", the man gasped. "It looks like some unfortunate soul had been washed away."

"Papa!" The eldest son yelped, pointing to where the river was rushing through its bed. The family stopped in shock once they saw the large black shapes lying there. They hurried to get a closer look, hoping that maybe they could still help whoever had been caught in that mysterious flood.

As they finally reached the shore, they noticed that it were several horses. It were huge black steeds, but all dead, soaking wet and broken through the currents and boulders hidden beneath the water.

The family approached slowly, hoping that maybe they'll find the riders or a living horse, before they had to call for one of the Rangers. After all, looting a dead body was heavily frowned upon.

"Mama!" the little girl suddenly shrieked. The family whirled around, only to find a massive creature kneeling further down the river. It looked vaguely human, was covered in dark armour that did remind them of a bug's shell, and had giant claws for hands. One of these talons was hovering over a dead horse, but it had turned its featureless face towards the family. The parents froze in fear, even if they managed to shove the children behind their bodies to protect them.

The creature slid to its feet, suddenly towering over the family, who backed away in terror, but they stopped abruptly when giant serpent-like growths shot from the creatures' back and slammed into the trees around them, effectively cutting them off from their escape route. The family edged back, the parents determined to protect their children, even in the face of the armoured creature that slowly moved towards them.

Suddenly, its heavy steps stopped once it stood only a few feet away from them, head tilted to the side quizzically.

 **"Humans?"**

There was a tense silence, and the family just stood there, blinking at the question. Though...it wasn't a real question, rather a statement. The creature 'eyed' them for a few more moments before it slowly stepped back, pulling those serpentine tendrils back to allow the to escape.

 **"You might wanna leave"** , it said. **"You shouldn't stay here. Shouldn't come back the next few days either."** Its voice sounded...forced somehow. **"You can contact the Rangers or the guards or whoever it is you call for hunting down monsters. I don't care."**

It simply turned, grabbing the horse carcasses with its tentacles and dragged them after its body as it moved away with no care in the world.

The man didn't ask any more questions. He just grabbed his youngest son, hoisted him on his arm and took the oldest son by the hand, while his wife took their daughter. They ran out of the forest without looking back.

Trying to banish the sound the horses' flesh made as it was torn apart from their heads.

* * *

Alex didn't know why he had let them go. They had seen him, knew where he was, they could summon more soldiers on his ass that would hunt him down.

He should have killed them, consumed them and added them to his very low Biomass levels.

But he had let them go. The very moment he saw how the parents tried to protect their children, he realized that he couldn't hurt them. He just didn't want to do this.

So he let them go. Turned his back on them so he wouldn't see them running away from him.

So he wouldn't have to fight down the urge to hunt them.

He knew he wouldn't have enough restraints to hold himself back this time. With a huff, he sat down next to the dead horses and began pulling them in, breaking them down into raw Biomass for his body to work with. They had been dead for quite a while already, making it impossible to _infect_ them and turn them to Blacklight matter, but he could still recycle them on a cellular level.

It wasn't as effective as actually consuming life food, but it was better than nothing.

And it was far better than hunting down innocent civilians or trying to feed on his companions.

Alex scowled deeply. He did remember last night perfectly well. _That_ had been a fucking close call.

" _Why? It is because I have no restraints left, Strider. The only thing that prevents me from violently murdering all of you is rapidly decreasing the closer you are!"_

It was his fault, really. Or that of the Nazgûl. He wasn't sure whom to blame, since it was the Morgul Poisoning that slowly drove him mad with hunger. Initially, he thought he could withstand it, could suppress his hunger until he was either back in Manhattan or could go hunting for animals or Orcs without his companions asking questions. But then he refused to rest out of the simple fear that he might hurt Strider or the Hobbits when his victim's memories became too strong for his subconsciousness to hold back.

But resting was essential. It shut down his bodily functions in so far that the breakdown of Biomass was halted. When he refused to rest, he forced his body to stay active, to continue burning Biomass.

And with the poison effect still lingering inside his system, he used up much more Biomass than he usually would. All this energy- _wasted_ in his pathetic attempt to contain the venom. He wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. He just had to _consume_ life prey. He had to feed to win this battle, just needed to grab more Biomass and crack the toxin down. He had discovered this only short time ago, and he was already feeling better. Of course, feeding was the best way to battle any type of problem he encountered. Just like some old woman in his head said 'Eating keeps body and mind together'.

Instead he had tried to reign in his urge to devour, had refused his body even the most basic instinct in a flimsy attempt to appear human.

And nearly went insane from it.

It was already bad enough the last two days, when his Biomass Levels had reached a critical low he only experienced a few times, especially after having faced down at least one Thermobaric Tank, when the pure presence of his allies had caused him to nearly fall over the edge. Luckily, as long they kept their distance, he could keep dominance over his body.

This was why he had been so aggressive towards them. Snarling and growling so they wouldn't come any closer.  
So he wouldn't _hurt_ them.

But then the Elf Woman had arrived. Alex' entire focus had turned on her and all of his senses began to run havoc, supplying him with the information about her health, her smell, her pulse...He knew it was the first step he did before just brutally tearing into his prey to feed. The Prototype had forced down his urge to do just that, but then luckily his mind had been taken off the urges boiling in his guts once he heard the Nazgûl shriek. Stronger than his hunger was only the desire to get back at these bastards for doing that to him. It would have nearly worked too.

But then the Elf Woman approached him, went right into his bubble of personal space and tried to check up on the injury the Morgul Blade caused.

As soon as she touched him, his entire body was flooded with the desire to consume. It had taken everything he had to not grab her, snap her thin neck and drag her in, seeking to sate his hunger. Instead he warned her, told her to back off and told her especially to _not_ run so he wouldn't give in to his predatory side.

When Aragorn then approached him too, it was just too much. Alex had snarled at them, burst out with large parts of the truth before turning and forcing his body to march off. He knew he couldn't stay there any longer. He had to find something- or someone- to consume.

The Prototype was pretty certain that, should he have come upon a town or just an inhabited house, he would have started to massacre everybody he could find.

He was glad he didn't, but the presence of the unseen Nazgûl had scared off any wildlife.

And Alex was _so hungry_.

Another screech from the Ringwraith had the Virus halt in his movement for a moment before his body simply shivered and forced his remaining Biomass outside to form his armour. Now quite literally _empty_ , his sanity began slipping away from him- or more specifically, he was slipping away from control.

Blacklight could no longer be contained, could no longer be controlled by Alex' mind. The Virus awoke with a raging hunger and began to move. Alex himself only barely managed to prevent his own body from returning to the campsite, tried to force himself moving further away, but from that point on, he lost all control. He could only watch how the Blacklight Virus managed to hunt down a deer and devour it brutally, then started moving further to the East to find more prey.

But the prey was aware of the viral mass of hunger and had vanished, leaving Blacklight with nothing to feast upon. Hunger was raging inside him, driving him mad with need. He had to find something larger than a deer to devour, or else he would collapse into an uncontrolled hibernation mode.

Alex was aware that the sun had come up by now, and he found himself dashing across soft heathen and shrubs before he entered a small forest. He could taste at least nine different horses in the air that have passed through here, he could smell the scent of the Elf Woman and Frodo, and he could sense the residual feeling of the Ringwraith.

The Prototype was aware that he was currently following after the Elf Woman and the Ring-Bearer, and it should have scared him that he couldn't stop himself.

But he was just so tired of holding back. Instead, he gave chase.

It hadn't taken him too long to track them down nearby the river, and Blacklight didn't bother to stop to check out the situation as he leapt out of the greenery and onto the river's shore. He could smell the warm living bodies nearby, and especially the blood of the Elven Woman drove his mind into frenzy.

Alex wasn't even trying to hold himself back anymore, knowing fully well that if Blacklight was going to consume the woman and the Hobbit, then he couldn't prevent it. However, he did notice that the Black Horses were much closer. He only had one chance to stop the Virus from harming his two allies.

He nudged Blacklight's attention on the eight giant steeds, scanning their overall size and estimating the total Biomass. His hunger agreed with him. Eight Horses had much more nourishment than one horse, one Hobbit and one Elf woman.

So the Virus attacked the first of the black steeds, tearing through it and devouring it, feeling already leagues better than before while also ignoring the knee-deep water he was in. In this case, Blacklight's natural fear of water was overridden by his hunger.

But it wasn't enough. He leapt at the next horse, only idly noting that the Ringwraith were there also, screeching in rage and terror. But Blacklight was unable to recognize them, to realize that they were actually present, so the Virus ignored them.

He did not ignore, however, when a giant flood wave shot towards him. Blacklight braced himself, but he was unable to get enough footing to prevent being flushed away.

That was when his senses started screaming at him to get the hell out of the water, but he didn't manage to leap out of the rapid torrents. Instead, he shut off his mind and body, simply entering a near-comatose state to wait until he got back on dry land.

And when he woke up, he followed his senses to find the carcasses to continue feeding.

He also found the human family there, but he allowed them to escape.

Alex sighed and slowly climbed back to his feet. He was sated for now, could as well go back upstream to figure out where the Elf Lady went to.

* * *

Alex didn't feel like running. He certainly had no interest in reaching Rivendell as fast as somehow possible. If the Wizard was there, then he was going to stay there for some while longer. _'Irony sucks'_ , he thought darkly. First he wanted to reach Rivendell as fast as possible, but now when he was nearly there, he took his sweet time. Maybe it was because he nearly lost control from not taking it slower?

He had removed his shell, absorbed it back into his body and was now more or less casually strolling along the river's shore. He was thinking about how to approach Aragorn after what happened. He had nearly lost his marbles, after all. How was he supposed to explain _that_?

'Hey, I'm sorry that I almost _ate_ you, but can we still be friends?' Probably wouldn't cut it. Alex scowled and tried to take his mind off the situation. Instead, he tried to focus on the area around him.

He...really liked what he saw. The river besides him was rushing along with a soothing gurgle, the gravel beneath his feet crunched with each step. The grass and trees were softly swaying in the light breeze. The sun was shining, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. Actually, this was the first time Alex found himself enjoying the sun. Manhattan had been constantly clouded with red mist, and trying to climb up over the blanket of fog was suicidal during the day when Blackwatch helicopters would discover him immediately. And afterwards, when he found himself in Middle Earth, he didn't have time to appreciate the weather, since he was either constantly hunting down Orcs or tried to keep his murderous tendencies in check when trailing after the Hobbits and Aragorn.

But at the moment, he discovered that he liked the feeling. His ears picked up the sound of bird chatter and some animals moving through the underbrush.

 _Snap_

Alex paused, turning to where he heard the sound of a branch breaking. It wasn't the usual sounds he did hear from the animals. His eyes flashed and the world around him dipped into many different blue shades, and also a few warmer reddish-orange ones. Small critters that moved along, but there were two warm, large spots seated inside the trees on the opposite side of the river, quite far away too, but still close enough so Alex knew that they were watching him. The wind was blowing from his direction, making it nearly impossible to get their scents, but that didn't matter.

He crouched low before he catapulted his body straight over the river, hitting the other side in a roll before he got back up and started to sprint into the direction he's seen the two spots. He could hear them swear and grab whatever weapons they had, but Alex was faster. He dodged around the trees until he was close enough.

Just as he launched himself off the ground to reach them, the two figures dropped down to the soft forest floor in sync, leaving him to land on the large tree branch with a heavy thud. The two figures were covered in cloaks and were moving quite fast and nearly soundless, even as they made a mad dash away from him.

The Prototype was curious about them, so he dropped to the ground and gave chase, though he didn't use his total speed at first. However, when one of them suddenly turned and shot an arrow right at his face before whirling back to the front and speed up to catch up with their partner, Alex decided to end it. He had effortlessly avoided the arrow and ducked low, then just pounced at the bastard that shot him. He was careful not to crush the man, though he did pin him down onto the forest floor.  
With the Prototype's knees on either side of his flanks and the heavy virus seated comfortably on his lower back, the man couldn't do much more than struggle weakly and claw at the soil. The other made a startled outcry and stopped, returning to help his partner, though Alex kept him at a distance with a low growl while also switching back to normal vision. He paused at the somewhat familiar smell of the two, so he gave the man he caught a cursory sniff. He did smell pretty similar to the Elf Woman, he noticed, so he leaned to the front, grab and tilt the man's head and remove the hood to see his face. He was an Elf, sure enough, with long dark hair and facial features similar enough to the Elf Woman to figure out that they were either siblings, or parent and child- Elves do live for quite some time and barely age, after all. He was glaring at him with an intense loathing, teeth grit together as he still tried to struggle free the dagger he had on his belt while snarling something in a language unknown to Alex or Arundín. He still recognized it as Sindarin, the Elves' native tongue.

Alex snorted with a frown when he realized that he had no idea what to do now. Eat the guy and the other one? Bat them around? Let them go?

His train of thought was interrupted when he suddenly found an arrow pointed right at his face. The other Elf had approached them, determined to free his partner from the Virus' clutches. Now he towered over Alex and was targeting him from close-up, face set in a deep and angry scowl as he spat some angry words at him. Alex still didn't understand what he said, but he could guess that he demanded him to let the other guy go.

The Prototype paused when he saw the other guy's face. He looked exactly like the one he had pinned to the floor. He tilted his head in surprise. "Twins?" He asked, though more to himself.

The two Elves scowled deeper and the one that held him at gunpoint (figuratively speaking) and pulled his lips up in a snarl. "Let him go", he demanded, "Before I put an arrow through your skull."

"That wouldn't hurt me, you know", Alex drawled out before he suddenly lunged, even without actually getting up. He brushed the bow and arrow away and snatched the second Elf, ripping him off his feet and sending him sprawling to the forest floor too. He effortlessly continued holding _both_ of them down, one with his legs, the other with his arms like some sort of Wrestler. He was so fast, neither of the Elves could comprehend what happened.

"And that's it. You're dead", Alex declared with a smug smirk. The Twins stiffened noticeably beneath him, but the Prototype shifted once and slid off them, pulling them back to their feet in one swift motion.

"You should be more careful about who you pick as your target", he pointed out, ignoring that both Elves were a good foot taller than him. _Stupid 5'10'' beanstalk of a scientist body._ "Why were you watching me?"

The Elves watched him uncertainly, as if deciding to try to take him down or just leave it be, until the one he pinned eventually gave in. "We were watching the border", he claimed, "As Nazgûl tried to cross it only the night before yesterday."

"But they are gone", Alex pointed out. He was careful not to tell them how they have been flushed away, so he wouldn't accidentally blow his cover by knowing things he shouldn't know. "I found their horses and the remains of their clothes further downstream."

"What?" One of the Elves quipped, "You didn't think about helping your brethren?"

Alex scowled. "Should I? I don't like these fuckers. I just wanted to check whether one is still alive so I can kill it." He turned and started following his nose, now that he finally had caught a whiff of Aragorn. ' _He seriously needs to shower soon'_ , he thought randomly as he slowly began moving. He listened to the two Elves whisper amongst each other, so he stopped in irritation.

"It is not nice talking about others behind their back and in a language they don't speak", he snapped.

"It isn't nice either to tackle someone into the ground like a wild boar", one of the Twins gave back, "And then sit on them like they are comfy furniture, Wraith."

"And you are _heavy_." The other quipped, "What are you made of? Stone?"

"Nah, not really. Besides, you got lucky. Normally I kill people I tackle into the ground." Alex paused and looked around. "How much further till Rivendell?"

He heard the Twins inhale sharply, hearing them knock in an arrow and pull back their bow strings at the same time. "How do you know?" One of them hissed in threat, though Alex didn't bother turning around.

"Even the dumbest Orc knows that Rivendell is around here", the Virus replied. "And I really don't want to hurt you and get the information that way." He turned, watching the two Elves. "I told him I'd meet him in Rivendell later on."

"Who?"

"A Ranger", Alex explained. "Called Strider by most of the people, but his real name is-"

"Aragorn?" The Elves slowly lowered their bows, staring at the Prototype.

Alex blinked. "Yeah. That's him. I left him and the Hobbits a few nights back when that Elf Lady appeared and took one of the Hobbits to Rivendell." He shuffled, crossing his arms. "I think I kind of freaked him out back then. I owe him an apology at least. He could have left my sorry behind in Bree or on the Amon Sûl, but he hauled me all the way over here. I think a _Thank You_ is most appreciated."

The Elves looked at each other, whispering something in their native tongue and gesturing wildly. Alex stood nearby and tried to figure out what they were saying, but he patiently waited for them to finish. Eventually, the two finished and looked at him.

"We will escort you to Rivendell", one of them said.

"But we will keep an eye on you. The very moment you try to do anything funny, we will stop you."

"I promise to behave", Alex agreed. He waited for the two Elves to walk next to him. "By the way, who are you? It's only polite to introduce yourselves."

"How about you give us your name first, Wraith?"

"If you can remember it. Otherwise we will stick with Wraith."

"Alex Mercer"

"Elladan and Elrohir. We are the sons of Lord Elrond."

"Huh", Alex furrowed his brows, trying to figure out what to say next. "It's...nice to meet you?"

"You just threatened us with death", Elladan pointed out.

"There is no 'nice' here", Elrohir added.

The Prototype frowned. "Okay, how about 'Take me to Aragorn or I throw your fucking fairy asses over the mountain'?"

* * *

Frodo furrowed his brows as he and Arwen arrived at Rivendell. It was in the late evening and the setting sun dyed the golden leaves of the forest in fiery red and oranges. It was still warm and the soft breeze stroke over them.

Leaves were gently falling around them and there were still the voices of birds in the air. The last Homely House of Arwen's father (as far as Frodo understood from what the Elf woman told him) lied in front of them, its pale walls of wood shone in the late sun.

The Hobbit could hear fair voices in the trees, though could not see the Elves. Only when Arwen's horse slowed down panting, Frodo finally managed to catch a glimpse of the fair folk. All of them stood tall with long hair and delicate raiment, and their sharp eyes watched them. For the first time since they left Bag End, the Hobbit felt incredibly safe. The nightmare was going to be over soon. The Ring had reached the Elves, his mission was over.

Arwen sighed in relief as she steered Asfaloth into the courtyard of the largest building there, which was safely nestled into the cliffs of the valley. Frodo watched with amazement at the several dozen Elves that moved towards them, holding the horse and helping Arwen off, all the time speaking in their native tongue. Arwen was exhausted, but incredibly relieved and was actually the one taking Frodo off the saddle.

"We have reached Rivendell", she whispered, "You will be safe here."

"Thank you", the Hobbit replied, "For not giving me up to the Ringwraith."

" _Arwen",_ another voice spoke up. They turned to witness a tall, dark-haired older Elf move towards them, arms outstretched. He wore a small diadem.

" _Ada"_ , Arwen replied, pulling the older into a tight hug. She and he quickly exchanged a few words which sounded worried on the male Elf's side and somewhat mischievous on the female's side. Frodo did manage to get the gist of their exchange. Arwen clearly had left to look for them without her father's consent. He was worried, slightly disgruntled, proud and incredibly relieved all at once. Eventually, he turned to Frodo, who quickly bowed his head. The Elf Lord smiled at him. "Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins."

"I thank you for welcoming me", the Hobbit replied, "But what about my friends?"

"Aragorn will lead them here safely", Arwen explained. "Now that the Nazgûl are gone."

"I sensed something of the kind", Elrond claimed. He frowned at his daughter. "You called forth the Power of our People. What exactly happened?"

"The eight Ringwraith have chased us", his daughter told him truthfully. "I managed to stop them for a while by crossing the River Bruinen, but they were still adamant to follow us into Rivendell. So I called forth the White Steeds of the River and pushed them away- the Ringwraith and the Demon that attacked them before."

"Demon?" Elrond furrowed his brows a bit more. "What Demon?"

"We don't know", Frodo said, "Arwen told me she's never seen one of the kind before. It wasn't interested in harming us though."

"It attacked the Nazgûl's mounts", the Elf woman explained. "It wasn't even fighting the Wraith themselves. I didn't want to accidentally bring a creature like this into the forest, but luckily the White Steeds of the River took care of it as well."

Elrond was still frowning. "You said _eight_ Nazgûl, Arwen. But there are nine."

"Not anymore", Frodo declared. The Elf Lord looked at him with a questioning glance, but didn't say a word, so the Hobbit could explain. "Strider- he had a companion with him in Bree", he said, "A man called Alex Mercer. He went with us and kept us safe. Until six days ago the Ringwraith discovered us at the Weather Top." He swallowed hard, trying to push out the images that tried to resurface, the faces of the Nazgûl and the naked panic he felt. But then he also remembered the black and red snakes and worms that had seized him roughly and kept him safe. He was till going to have nightmares from it. "Alex was suddenly there", he said, "And he protected me from them. He even killed one of them."

"Incredible", Elrond muttered, "No living man is able to even wound one of the nine, yet you say a man killed one?"

Frodo nodded. "And even when he was wounded by one of their Morgul Blades, he kept right on fighting and drove them out with Strider's help." Elrond gasped at the mentioning of someone being wounded, so he turned his attention to his daughter. "Then where is he? He requires my healing!"

"He left", Arwen said with a distraught tone. "He said he couldn't stay around us, lest he'll endanger our lives. Then he just left."

"This is not good", Elrond muttered, "So there is somebody out there slowly turning into a Wraith under the control of the Dark Lord..."

"I don't think so", Arwen suddenly cut in. "Estel told me he claimed to already be a Wraith, and I believed him. He was in pain from the poison, but he didn't turn to the shadows. Quite curious."

"Curious indeed", Elrond agreed. He turned to Frodo. "Let's get you a room to rest, Frodo, so you can wait for your friends to arrive. I will have words with Aragorn upon his return."

Elrond turned and left them standing in the courtyard, frowning as if deep in thoughts.

* * *

It was the next day when Frodo found himself wandering through the halls of Lord Elrond. He didn't see the Elf Lord, but he did meet Arwen, who accompanied him. She showed him several places where he could spend his time, like the large library, the gardens, the statue of Isildur that held the shards of Narsil... Frodo was really impressed with all the beauty around him. It did make him feel incredibly self-conscious...and home-sick.

He felt Arwen's slender hand fall to his shoulder and when he looked up, he saw the sad smile on her face. She was aware of what he was thinking, so she brought him to a small balcony overlooking the courtyard. There, on a low bench partly hidden by the golden foliage around him, sat a shrunken little person reading from a large red book.

Frodo felt his heart leap in joy as he recognized his uncle, albeit he was thinner and much more frail than he remembered.

"Bilbo!" He called out, running towards him.

The old Hobbit lifted his head, smiling widely over his entire face. "Hello Frodo, my lad!"

The younger hugged the older tightly, making him drop his book.

Frodo quickly picked it up though, eyeing the cover. " _'There and back again- A Hobbit's tale by Bilbo Baggins'_ ", he read out loud. Bilbo smiled and nodded at his nephew, prompting him to look at it. Frodo leafed through it, beaming. "This is wonderful!" He exclaimed.

Bilbo nodded again, though his expression was slightly remorseful. "I meant to go back", he admitted with a wistful look. "Wander the paths of Mirkwood...visit Laketown...see the Lonely Mountain again..." He paused gesturing to the crutch that was leaned against the banister next to him, "But age, it seems, has finally caught up with me." He gave his nephew a sad smile, making Frodo swallow involuntarily. He lowered his gaze to the map of the shire his uncle had drawn inside the book. "I miss the Shire", he admitted with a rather silent whisper. "I spent all my childhood pretending I was off somewhere else..." He looked at Bilbo. "Off with you on one of your adventures!" He smiled a bit at that memory, then his smile slid off his face. "My own adventure turned out to be quite different. I'm not like you, Bilbo."

Bilbo furrowed his brow and leaned over, patting him on his cheek in reassurance. "We all started out similar to this, my dear Frodo. My adventure was far from being funny, actually. Don't worry though. The people you'll meet are the ones that make the journey worthwhile."

Frodo paused and thought about it, then he went over to hug his uncle one more time.

"Thanks, Bilbo!"

"Anytime, my lad", the older replied.

"Speaking of friends..." Arwen began, drawing their attention to her. "The others are arriving."

Frodo leapt towards the handrail and looked into the courtyard, witnessing Strider and the other three Hobbits walk through the gates. They looked exhausted but otherwise fine. And of course, the Hobbits were stunned by the many Elves around them.

"Go", Bilbo said, "Go and greet them, Frodo. I'm not going to go anywhere."

The younger Hobbit beamed at him and quickly set out to join his friends. Arwen watched him with a smile before following after him.

* * *

It had been entirely too long for Aragorn to be gone from Rivendell. He hadn't realized it, but he did feel incredibly homesick during his long trips away from here.

But now he was back and could finally breathe free again, even if there was a lingering shadow above them. Aragorn knew that Rivendell was not going to stay safe any longer. This was why he barely found sleep and was more often wandering the vast halls. But it was also that he felt worried. He felt worried for the hooded man he met in Bree. Alex said he couldn't turn into a Ringwraith and he didn't show any outwards signs of a transformation either, but he had become increasingly more aggressive. The Ranger knew that this was one of the signs of turning to the shadows, and that is what he told his Foster Father. Elrond had listened to his story, had only spoken up to ask several questions, but Aragorn wasn't sure what he thought. After all, he did explain to him that Alex admitted being a Wraith himself and he had openly admitted that he had only barely managed to contain himself and _not_ kill him or the Hobbits. He also explained to the Elf Lord the way Alex had been around Arwen, the raging hunger burning behind his eyes, the way his entire body stiffened in preparation for attack.  
But then Aragorn also explained that the Wraith turned away and wandered off. To prevent himself from hurting them.

He had told Elrond that he was certain that Alex was battling an urge that was going to end bad for them, but he didn't give in to it. Elrond didn't say anything, though his brows were drawn together.

In the end, he told Aragorn to keep an eye out for his friend should he ever return, and if he did, he should send him straight to him. Morgul Blades had the unpleasant side-effect of leaving shards of themselves behind.

But Aragorn also heard the message hidden beneath Elrond's words.

 _I will have a look at this Wraith and I will destroy it if it ever dares to threaten my family ever again._

Aragorn hoped that Alex would behave.

A few days after his arrival in Rivendell, the Ranger noticed the sound of familiar voices coming from the courtyard. He immediately recognized them as those of Elladan and Elrohir, his foster brothers. He wondered about their presence as Arwen told him that they were going to keep watch on the border for a while longer. Intrigued, he came closer, listening to the anxious chatter of the other Elf Guards.

They were nervous and highly aggressive, snapping angry Sindarin, though the Twins were swift to soothe them.

Aragorn wondered why, but when he stepped outside, he realized why the guards were so tense.

Alex Mercer stood just behind the Twins, scowling angrily at the Elves around him. Once or twice he bared his teeth and openly snarled at those that dared to come closer, but it was a far cry from the red-eyed raging beast he has been nights before.

The wound on his chest was completely gone now, Aragorn realized, and he seemed to be back at the level he was on before they reached the Amon Sûl.

"Estel!" Elladan called out, waving him over.

"We found somebody who would like to meet you!" Elrohir finished.

Aragorn saw Alex' head snap up, settling his icy glare on him. "Aragorn!" He snarled, "Tell those fairies that if they don't stop shoving arrows into my face, I will shove my fist down their throats!"

Yup. Same Alex.

The Ranger frowned before jogging up to quell the upcoming conflict. "Nobody has to shove anything", he declared, stepping between the Wraith and the Elves. He turned to the Guards. _"Please lower your weapons"_ , he told them, _"You have my word that he will not harm any of you."_

" _Are you certain?"_ One of the Elves asked.

" _Very. Please lower your weapons. I do not intent to find out how much more he can withstand, and I do not wish to antagonize him any further. He was a good friend, even if slightly...unstable at times."_

The guards looked at each other, but lowered their weapons anyways. _"I do hope you know what you are bringing upon yourself, Estel"_ , the head guard said. _"We will not harm this Wraith, but it has to obey the rules of Rivendell."_

" _I will take care he knows of this. Thank you very much."_

The guard all backed down now, but they did keep a watchful eye on Alex. Aragorn turned and realized that he, too, had forgone his aggressive stance and was more or less neutral about all of them, just barely glancing at them. As he noticed the Ranger nearby, he frowned for a moment, making Aragorn think that perhaps he was struggling with figuring out what to do next.

"Thanks for that", he grumbled eventually, "For telling them to back off." He tilted his head in thoughts though. "What was that about me being unstable?"

Aragorn blinked in surprise. "You speak Sindarin?" He asked.

"A bit", the hooded man admitted, "I did listen to those two-" He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder into the direction of the Twins, "They kept chattering since we met. I figured out some of the recurring words. I'm a fast learner."

The Ranger was quite amazed by this, and given the faces of his brothers, they were surprised to hear this. He quickly managed to get his head back on track. "Alex", he said, "I managed to persuade the guards from attacking you, even if they see you as a threat. You can not be aggressive towards them."

"I know", the Wraith gave back. "I will try to behave." He furrowed his brows, watching the Ranger. "This is about the night after the Amon Sûl, right?" He asked with a low voice.

"Your mind was affected by the Morgul Blade", Aragorn explained, "You threatened me and those I want to protect with death. Such is not something easy forgotten."

Alex bristled at those words, but he quickly forced himself to calm down. "I know", he admitted with a low growl. "But this was...the only way to prevent myself from actually killing you. I would have done so, I know this. I would have regretted it later, but at that moment..." He trailed off, then shook his head with a grim expression. "I will not ever threaten you or anybody you travel with again like that", he said in all honesty. "I can't promise that this...temporarily insanity won't ever happen again, but I know what lead to it and I will try to prevent it." He paused. "And I'm...sorry for what happened. I nearly did something I would never have been able to fix. I never meant to."

Aragorn approached him, putting his hand on the other's shoulder. "I believe in your words, my friend. Though I'm afraid I bring bad news. Gandalf still isn't here yet, but the Lord Elrond is in high spirits that he will arrive within the next week." He squeezed the Wraith's shoulder. "Speaking of Lord Elrond, he requested to meet you as soon as possible. Come, let us not make him wait for too long."

" _Estel"_ , Elladan called out, _"Make sure he doesn't threaten Ada with throwing him over the mountain. I doubt he'll take it lightly."_

" _I try"_ , Aragorn gave back.

Alex scowled at the Twin Elves snickering. _"You know what?"_ He snapped in very angry and slightly broken Sindarin _"You two are_ _ **dicks**_ _."_


	6. The Council of Elrond

**Author: So, EDITED and re-uploaded. Original appeared on 12th February 2016, new Version on 28th April 2016. I removed nearly all Pop-culture references. Because you guys whined about it.**

* * *

The Council of Elrond

Alex trailed after Aragorn, trying to ignore the stares he got from the Elves around them. He had already noticed that they saw him as something not-human, but they didn't manage to recognize his true nature. To them, he was a Wraith that tried to walk amongst them. Best thing was he played along with it.

The sooner he was out of here, the better, he thought, even if he began getting somewhat attached to Aragorn. The Ranger had been the first one who accepted him and was willing to put his trust in him. Alex supposed it felt...nice, to be actually trusted by somebody else.

Cross, even though they worked together, never had any trust left for him. Hell, the first mission he sent him on ended with Alex choking on Bloodtox. The Specialist also never had any problems sending him on really dangerous missions or using him as meat-shield during their last battle together.

Ragland, despite having had a lot of contact with the man-eating virus, was still wary and nearly jumped every time he came down into the morgue. The only time this wasn't like this was when Alex had thrown up blood and collapsed from the parasite burrowing in his back.

Karen had always shied away from him, except for the one time when he stood in her doorway. He understood that they did have some sort of past together, that they had been in love at one time (well, the _real_ Alex did, not him), but that didn't stop Karen from betraying him and creating a thing that was supposed to kill him. If she had trusted him, then maybe she would have told him what the fuck was going on and would have helped him see clear. But she didn't. And for this, he killed her.

He snorted. Hell, even _Dana_ was terrified of him. Now wonder, the first thing he did was put his fist through a Blackwatch goon's chest, then haul her out of her apartment and run all the way to Hell's Kitchen to find an underbridge to hide. But Dana had accepted it quickly, even though even she was always jumping when he approached. And then he told her he could hear the people's thoughts in his head and she was terrified.

He never managed to tell her how sorry he was, how disgusted he was with himself about the whole situation, about killing so many people. But then again, at least Blackwatch had it coming.

He was determined to not put the people of Middle Earth through the same. He was going to play it safe, not use his powers except for those they identified with Wraith, and most of all, not consume if anybody was watching. He knew it was going to be torture, he was well aware that he was going to have some troubles, but he was quite positive that he only had to wait a few more days. He just needed to meet this Wizard dude and have him _Floo Powder_ him back to Manhattan, then everybody could deal with their own shit. The people here could...do whatever they do with a cursed Magic Ring thingy and Alex could tear through a Hive or two. It wasn't his place to do something about a cursed Ring. He just wanted to go home and forget that this whole thing happened.

" _The Lord Elrond is wise. He will know what to do"_ , echoed inside his head. This is what Aragorn had said when they met first. Alex was interested to meet the man. After all, from what he learnt from what the Twins chattered and what Arundín knew, the Lord was well over _five thousand_ years old. And the Prototype was interested in figuring out how exactly that worked. Elves were supposed to be immortal, but the scientists inside his head wanted to know how that was possible.

And more information, even if it was only a scrap at a time can't hurt to have.

They stopped in front of a door and Aragorn paused before opening it. Alex frowned at him for a good moment. "Why aren't you moving?" He eventually asked.

"You can't approach Lord Elrond looking like this", the Ranger pointed out.

"You're telling me now. You said I was supposed to meet him a.s.a.p. I didn't have time to change."

"I mean not your clothes", The Ranger began. He reached over and pulled Alex' hood right off his head, unveiling his curly short hair. "Better", he smiled.

Alex scowled, brushing his hand over his exposed head, but didn't say anything.

Aragorn was still smiling and opened the door, motioning for him to step through. Alex followed the lead and stopped inside a room that appeared to be a study or private library of sorts. There was a small balcony overlooking a larger one, there were several bookshelves and a few low tables with rather comfy-looking chairs. In front of the doorway opening to the balcony stood the Elf Woman, the younger sister of the twins, and was just talking to an elder Elf. This one wore a small silver circlet and a red coat over his lightly-coloured robes. He paused as the two entered and turned around, watching Aragorn and Alex.

"Your name is, as I heard, Alex Mercer, is this correct?" The Elf Lord asked. Alex furrowed his brows at the tone of disgust hidden beneath his voice.

"It's _Alexander James Mercer_ , actually", The Prototype replied, "But I prefer the short version" He felt Aragorn nudge his back, so he added "Lord Elrond" as an afterthought.

There was a tense silence between the two, Alex was glaring daggers at the Elf Lord, while Elrond just glanced back with a frown.

Eventually, the Elf Lord inclined his head, eyes scanning the other's shape. "I was told by my daughter and foster son that you have been, in fact, stabbed through the heart by a Morgul Blade, is that correct?"

Alex shrugged, deciding that the man wasn't worth the trouble to consume him and impersonate him. "I was. It hurt and I couldn't walk in a straight line for two days or so, but I am better now."

Elrond nodded in thoughts. "Well, you claimed it _hurt_ , but nothing else?"

"Well, I was pissed that they actually managed to make it hurt", Alex growled irritated.

The Elf Lord nodded again, making Alex think of a psychiatrist. "And when you get... _pissed_...then you turn violent towards those you deem your allies?"

The Prototype narrowed his eyes. So that is where the man is coming from, but Elrond didn't give him time to reply. "You threatened my foster son and my daughter with death, and as far I have heard, you were only barely containing yourself from actually going through with your threat." He crossed his arms behind his back, his eyes glowing with what appeared to be low-boiling hatred. "My point is, _Wraith_ , that such behaviour will not be tolerated here. I will judge every move against my family and my realm as an act of war, and will react accordingly."

Alex bristled, pulling his lips up in a snarl. A lot of thoughts shot through his head on how to counter on that, thoughts that mostly involved a copious amount of bloodshed, but then he remembered that he was here for information, not for wrecking havoc on this man. Elrond just wanted to protect his family, just as much as he did with Dana. "I came not here for accusations", he bit out, forcing himself to stay as calm as possible so he wouldn't break something- or someone- accidentally. "I know what happened, I know I _fucked_ up along the way, and I am _sorry_ for it, okay?" He snorted, crossing his arms defiantly, "But you don't seem to understand, Elrond. I didn't accompany Aragorn and the Hobbits because they needed a bodyguard. I accompanied them because I didn't want to march in here without somebody you trust." He stepped back, frown still on his face though he did lower his voice considerably. "I came here because I need your _help_ , Lord Elrond, and not because of the pathetic attempt of the Nazgûl to poison me. I need to go _home_ , but I am afraid I need someone who knows how to use magic, somebody like you or Gandalf."

Elrond had his eyebrows raised up, but said nothing as he tried to process what the Virus just said. Alex could see how his brain was frantically working, trying to figure out whether he could believe what he had said. And, most of all, Alex' honesty had taken all wind from his sails. Well, to his credits, he didn't stammer about when he finally managed to form words with a sigh.

"Aragorn, please keep an eye on your guest, in case the Morgul poison acts up again", he told the Ranger, "He seems to trust you. Do not allow him wander around Rivendell without you being nearby."

Elrond turned his attention to Alex. "I ask of you to stay around Aragorn. He will answer any question you might have. Once Gandalf arrives, I will send for you."

Aragorn put his hand on Alex' shoulder, and lowered his head in a gesture of gratitude. "Thank you, Lord Elrond."

* * *

"So...' _roch'_ means 'horse', and _'rych'_ means 'horses'", Alex summarized, "But _'Edain'_ is Men, while one Man is _'Adan'_?" He leaned back on the stone bench he sat on with a groan. "Your grammatical rules make no sense at all!"

"I'm sure that most Elves won't understand you either way", Elladan shrugged.

"Your pronunciation is terrible", Elrohir added.

"It does", Aragorn added, "You sound like a barking dog. Sindarin is supposed to flow like a river, not like a rockslide tearing through a group of Orcs."

Alex scowled deep, baring his teeth at the three who sat around a round table on one of the many porches. Since the Wizard wasn't around yet, Alex had to wait even longer. He was not very pleased about the entire situation, quickly succumbing to boredom after he had checked out the whole of the Last Homely House. Elladan and Elrohir then got it into their heads to teach him how to properly speak and read Sindarin.

This...didn't go very well. Alex discovered that he hated having to learn things through normal means. If he wanted to know how to fly a gunship, he just ate somebody who could. But he had sworn to not devour anybody around here, and despite being easily the most intelligent man in Manhattan (even if he rarely used his high intellect, breaking things was much easier), he was struggling through the lessons.

Well, admittedly, he _did_ get through it a lot faster than normal people, but it was still too slow for his taste.

He threw a glance at the papers he used for taking notes, frowning at his own chicken scratch before getting up. "I'll call it a day", he grumbled. "You guys are dicks."

"Fine by me", Elrohir replied with a grin, "Elladan and I wanted to meet up these two Hobbits. Merry and Pippin?"

"They're loads of fun for somebody that young", Elladan added.

"Oh no", Aragorn lamented sarcastically, "Hide the vegetables."

Alex muttered under his breath and walked off, though Aragorn trailed after him. The virus wasn't very happy about the arrangement Elrond had him do, mostly because it meant he had problems sneaking out. It wasn't very necessary at the moment, but he had to restock on Biomass soon. But that wasn't going to work if Aragorn kept tailing him. And Alex hated to admit it, but the Ranger was good in following him.

The two of them passed a small porch where Sam and Frodo were. The sound of Sam packing his bags made Alex pause in his motion, and he decided to check up on the Hobbits.

"Packed already?" Aragorn called out to them, walking besides Alex. Sam was so deep in his own thoughts that he nearly jumped at the Ranger's voice. He whirled around like somebody who had been caught stealing, though he quickly calmed down.

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Yeah", He explained, "No harm being prepared."

"I thought you wanted to see Elves", the Ranger pointed out.

"I do!" Sam quickly replied.

"More than anything", Frodo confirmed with a nod. His eyes turned distant though. "It's just..." He trailed off, allowing his friend to pick up the line of thoughts.

"We did what Gandalf wanted, didn't we?" He fidgeted with the strap of his bag. "We got the Ring this far into Rivendell and then I thought we'd be off soon. Off home."

"He's right", Frodo claimed. "We did what we set out to do." He reached into his breast pocket, retrieving the Ring. Alex' focus snapped on the golden piece of Bling, and his mind came to a screeching stand-still. That thing? That is the reason for all this? He got stabbed by a Nazgûl because of this thing?! He scowled deeply at the Ring, as if he had a personal vendetta against it.

' _Kill'  
'Consume'  
'Become'_

Alex' head snapped up, eyes narrowing. Who said that? He snarled and looked around, trying to figure out where this voice came from. He had noticed that it wasn't _his_ voice, or any of those he's consumed so far. He only heard Frodo add a faint "The Ring will be safe in Rivendell. I'm ready to go home."

' _Kill'_

Alex growled and pulled back. His head felt like there was a hot-red spike embedded through it, and the voice just kept hissing at him to kill.

"Frodo", Aragorn's voice cut in, "Please cover the Ring up."

The voice was cut off suddenly, leaving the Prototype with just a stabbing headache that slowly faded away.

"Is everything alright?" The Ranger asked and it took Alex a moment to realize that he asked him. He growled and turned to face Aragorn, noting him standing there with a worried expression. The Hobbits looked at him too with wide eyes.

"I feel like I've been stabbed through the head with a hot iron", the Virus ground out, "What the fuck was that?"

"I think it was the Ring trying to get a hold of you", Aragorn assumed, "For you are a Wraith. Sauron was trying to take control."

The voice...that was the Dark Lord? Alex scowled even deeper. There has never been anybody in Manhattan who could tell him what to do, even Cross never really took control. Alex had worked with him because the Specialist had the plans and the ideas about what was going on and the Virus didn't. It was beneficial to both of them, but the way Sauron was talking, just telling him to kill without giving him a reason to, this pissed him off.

"This bastard", the Prototype swore, "This fucking bastard!" He paused, watching Frodo who was just busy putting the Ring back into his breast pocket. "It's a good thing then I'm gonna leave you as soon as I figured out how."

"I am not going to keep you away from returning to your sister", Aragorn stated, "Every man should be able to go wherever his heart takes him, and yours is clearly not here." He was watching the courtyard, suddenly tapping Frodo's shoulder. "Frodo", he whispered, "Look."

The Hobbits and the Prototype turned to look at the direction the Ranger was glancing at. Alex heard the distinct intake of air on Frodo's side and the rapid increase of his pulse as he recognized the figure who just dismounted from a grey Elvish horse.

He frowned. The newcomer just screamed _Wizard_ with his grey beard, the grey robes and the grey pointed hat. Was this-?

"Gandalf!" Frodo shouted, already dashing towards the man, who turned in surprise.

Sam and Alex trailed after the Ring-Bearer at a slower pace. By now, Frodo had reached the Wizard and lunged at him, hugging him tightly around the middle. The old man was laughing heartily and was hugging the Hobbit back. "Frodo!" He exclaimed with a big smile, "It's so good to see you here- healthy and unhurt." He paused and looked down at the Halfling who finally let go of him. "Though I have been hearing rumours that it had been a close call, hasn't it?"

"It was", Frodo agreed, pulling back to look at his friend with a frown. "But why didn't you meet us?"

Gandalf paused, furrowing his brows. Alex and Sam were close enough by now to see the old man's expression clearly on his face. He appeared to alter between defeat and the feel of betrayal. "I'm sorry Frodo", He mumbled, "I was...delayed..." He gaze became distant, prompting the Hobbit to ask. "Gandalf...what happened?"

The Wizard snapped out of it, smiling at the Hobbit. "Nothing, Frodo."

He lifted his head, watching Aragorn and the other two approach, though his gaze did linger on Alex. Alex glanced back with interest. So this was the Wizard? Interesting.

"Gandalf!" Everybody turned to see Elrond walk towards them, a smile on his face and his arms spread wide. "It's good to see you!"

"Likewise, Lord Elrond", Gandalf gave back. "Though I am afraid I bear bad news. Elrond, we need to talk."

The Elf Lord nodded wordlessly. "So it shall be. Frodo, I'm afraid I have to have Gandalf accompany me."

"It's fine", the Hobbit nodded.

Elrond inclined his head and began walking, though he did stop for a moment. "Mister Mercer, please do accompany us. I believe this is the best moment to speak about your current situation."

Alex furrowed his brows and turned to Aragorn, who merely shrugged. So he tailed after Elrond and Gandalf. He was interested to see how this was going to play out.

* * *

Alex was leaned against the wall closest to the door of Elrond's study, watching the Elf Lord and the Wizard. He had listened intently with a frown about what Gandalf told about his old friend Saruman and how he betrayed them. The fact that the Wizard had bred an army didn't sit well with him, since it reminded him too much of Blackwatch's Super Soldiers.

If he was allowed to make suggestions, he would have voted for taking out Saruman and end his reign.

But he wasn't here to make suggestions about a war that didn't have to interest him. He was just here to finally talk to Gandalf, so he would get him back to Manhattan. Somehow.

"He has been put through much", Elrond said. He and Gandalf were currently watching Frodo speak with Sam on the porch below the balcony.

"I would have never believed things were so grim", Gandalf commented. "With the Nazgûl nearly getting to him four times and then the demon Arwen told you about...The times are getting darker." Alex shifted his balance at the mention of 'Demon'. He had already heard about the attack at the river. This was the first time somebody survived his rampage in his armoured form, and their descriptions of him made him feel uneasy. Or maybe it was the hunger that slowly began to stir in his stomach. Dead Biomass wasn't as useful as living food when it came to sate his hunger.

He watched how Elrond turned away from the opening and walked past him to a low table. "And yet, to have come so far, still bearing the Ring", the Elf began with some respect in his voice, "The Hobbit has shown extraordinarily resilience to evil."

Gandalf turned, pipe clutched in his hand. "It is a burden he should never have had to bear", he pointed out, "We can ask no more of Frodo."

"Gandalf", Elrond spoke up with a serious tone in his voice. "The enemy is moving. Sauron's forces are massing in the east; his eye is fixed on Rivendell." Gandalf turned back to the nearby window with a defeated sigh, but Elrond continued. "And Saruman, you tell me has betrayed us." He paused, arching his eyebrows. "Our list of allies grows thin."

The wizard hissed. "His treachery runs deeper than you know. By foul craft, Saruman has crossed Orcs with goblin men." He walked over to Elrond, stopping right next to the Prototype. "He's breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard. An army that can move in sunlight and cover great distance at speed." His voice dropped considerably. "Saruman is coming for the Ring."

So the other Wizard was really breeding his own version of D-Codes. Alex was half-tempted to stick around, if only for the promise of a bloody slaughter. He just had to figure out how to do that without somebody noting.

"This evil can not be concealed by the Power of the Elves", Elrond continued, ignoring the viral weapon of mass destruction that watched them. "We do not have the strength to withstand both Mordor _and_ Isengard." The wizard turned away with a gloom expression. Elrond picked up his voice some more. "Gandalf. The Ring can not stay here."

Gandalf leaned on the handrail, looking down into the courtyard in defeat. He knew just as well as Elrond that their chances were slim to do something about the impending doom.

Neither of them said anything and Alex found himself walking over to one of the windows to watch the courtyard. A man on a horse arrived, looking around uncertainly. A group of Elves arrived next, dismounting quickly. A little moment later, a group of rather short people with beards and axes (Dwarves, of course) arrived on foot. Elrond's voice continued. "This evil belongs to all of Middle Earth. They must decide now how to end it." Gandalf furrowed his brows as Elrond moved towards him. "The time of the Elves is over", he explained, "My people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we've gone?" He tilted his head, snorting, "The Dwarves? They toil away in caverns, seeking riches. They care nothing for the troubles of others."

Gandalf turned around with realization on his face. "It is in Men that we must place our hope."

Elrond was taken back. "Men? Men are weak." He turned and walked out of the room with a frown on his face. Gandalf and Alex both followed after him. "The race of Men is failing. The Blood of Númenor is all but spent, its pride and dignity forgotten." Elrond scowled deep. "It is because of Men the Ring survives." He paused, his voice lowering and his gaze turned distant. "I was there, Gandalf", he mumbled. "I was there three thousand years ago...when Isildur took the Ring. I was there the day the strength of Men failed." He frowned at those memories. "I led Isildur into the heart of Mount Doom, where the Ring was forged. The _one_ place it could be destroyed." His frown deepened. "It should have ended that day, but evil was allowed to endure. Isildur kept the Ring. There's no strength left in the world of Men." Elrond scoffed. "They're scattered, divided, leaderless."

Gandalf lifted his head, pale blue eyes watching the Elf Lord. "There is one who could unite them", he pointed out "One who could reclaim the throne of Gondor."

The Elf Lord scoffed. "He turned from that path long ago. He has chosen exile."

Alex snorted once, drawing their attention.

"Is that so? Do people still need somebody who leads them?" He asked, "Is it so hard for people to join forces and do something? Do they really need a nanny that holds their hand?"

"You do not understand this, Wraith", Elrond pointed out. "You do not care for the lives of the people."

"I don't care for them if they don't get their heads out of their asses", the Virus growled. "What is so hard about joining forces to keep a guy out of their home who would otherwise _kill them all_? Why can't people understand this?"

He crossed his arms, glaring darkly at the Wizard and the Elf Lord. "If the people don't manage to figure a way out of their constant victim mentality, then they deserve what they get."

"You shouldn't be so fast with judgement", Gandalf pointed out. "There is a much strength left in Men. Strength they aren't aware of, yet they have to find within." He inclined his head curiously. "Tell me, who are you to judge about mankind?"

"The name's Alex Mercer."

"Your true name", the Wizard claimed, "The name you are using is the one of a dead man. You are using his face akin to a mask, Wraith. What is your given name?"

Elrond furrowed his brows, watching the Prototype. Alex, on the other hand, was genuinely surprised. How could that old guy figure that out?

Well, he did need his help, so he couldn't really withhold any information. "I don't have a name", he admitted, "The closest thing to it is probably _Blacklight_ , Or DX-1118C. But I prefer 'Alex'."

Gandalf was scanning him closely, nodding his head slowly. "I see now, Blacklight. You are not of this realm, yet your fate is tied to the One Ring. Curious indeed..." He paused, taking a drag from his pipe. Elrond was frowning, glancing at the Wizard, then back to the Virus. "Listen, my friend", Gandalf continued after a moment, "I can not help you, no matter what you believe." Alex' eyes narrowed, but the Wizard lifted his hand to stop any argument. "I know who can. The Lady Galadriel, who is even older and wiser than I am, will be able to send you back to your realm."

The Prototype growled low beneath his breath. "Then where is this Lady Galadriel? I'm going to have words with her then."

"It will be impossible to just request her assistance", Elrond pointed out. "Her realm is well-guarded and you will not be allowed to get anywhere near her palace. If you force your way, you will lose everything. Her power is too great, Wraith."

 _We'll see about that_. Alex growled and spun around, determined to walk right out of here, but Gandalf held him back. "I shall accompany you, Blacklight, once we have decided what shall happen with the One Ring. Please, stand at our side in the Council tomorrow."

The Prototype scowled at the Wizard for a moment before throwing his arms up. "Oh what the Hell? Fine. I'll stick around and see what happens."

* * *

The 'Council' was, in truth, a circular porch with a bunch of chairs on it. In the middle of the circle was a small stone pedestal, and beneath a large tree sat Elrond in his chair, eyeing the attendees. Frodo sat to his left, next to him Gandalf. Besides the Wizard was a bunch of Elves (with the twins amongst them), then Aragorn. A group of Dwarves took up most of the entire middle-to right side, leaving only a few places for a group of men that arrived the day before. Alex was leaned against a support and watched them, scanning the present men like he always did.

Once everybody was settled down and listening, Elrond got up and began to speak. "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction; no-one can escape it."

' _Oh wow. What a way to make a motivational speech'_ , the Virus thought. He noticed how the other participants looked around uncertainly as Elrond continued with his dark prognosis.

"You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom."

The Elf Lord paused before turning towards Frodo. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

The Hobbit looked around nervously before he got up and shuffled to the pedestal. He slowly placed the Ring on it, trying to ignore the stares. As he placed it on the platform, Alex heard the sharp intake of air from the crowd, the whispers amongst each other. He also began feeling the headache coming back. At the edge of his mind, he felt a slight tug towards the Ring and a distant hiss in the back of his brain. Sauron was trying to speak to him again, but the Virus was far away enough so the connection was too weak.

"So it is true..." one of the humans muttered. Alex watched him, noticing that Aragorn was turning his attention on him too. Frodo sat back down next to Gandalf, inhaling shakily and closing his eyes. The crowd was eyeing the Ring, but nobody said anything.

Alex growled at the pregnant silence, since it made him hear Sauron's whispers even stronger.

The human man was the first to break the silence. He got up, drawing the Council's attention. "In a dream", he began, glancing at the Ring, "I saw the Eastern sky grow dark. But in the West, a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, 'The doom is near at hand, Isildur's Bane is found.'." He had made his way towards the pedestal, slowly reaching his hand for the Ring. "Isildur's Bane...", he whispered.

Alex watched him slowly draw closer, as if in trance. The way his pupils diluted and his heart rate slowed down, he was sure that this guy was being enticed by the Ring. There was no question that this man was going to grab the Ring and hurry off with it.

In this moment, Elrond had jumped to his feet, shouting "Boromir!" to startle the man out of his trance.

Gandalf had grabbed his staff harder at the same time. _"Ash Nazg Durbatuluk"_ , he snapped. Boromir jumped back startled as the sky darkened. The present Council members looked around nervously as Gandalf got to his feet, voice rising. _"Ash Nazg Gimbatul, Ash Nazg Thrakatuluk, Agh Burzum-ishi Krimpatul."_

Alex winced in pain when his headache became stronger and the voice of Sauron droned inside his skull. _"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them."_ Spoken in Mordor's black language. Alex knew it well, for the Orcs he hunted did speak it.

He growled as the sky and the entire area around them rumbled ominously, making the entire present crowd shrink into their chairs in terror. Alex hissed, fighting down his urge to shred the closest thing or person next to him. Sauron was roaring inside his head and he wanted him _out_.

By now, everybody was cowering in their seats and Gandalf finished his incantation. The sky cleared up suddenly as if nothing ever happened. The voice inside Alex' head had luckily quieted down fast.

"Never before", Elrond pressed out with a sharp edge in his voice, "Has anyone dared utter words of that tongue here, in Imladris."

Gandalf sounded breatheless as he answered. "I do not ask for pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether evil."

Boromir didn't back down though. "But it is a gift", he claimed. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this ring?" He began to pace around, giving a rather rousing speech "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him."

' _Sure. Just how Blackwatch tried to use that Parasite against me. We all know how well that went. Ask Cross if you don't believe me. He almost got his ass eaten by that fucking bastard'_ , Alex thought with a frown, glaring at Boromir.

Aragorn spoke up in answer to the Gondorian "You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

Boromir glared at him. "And what would a mere Ranger know of this matter?"

One of the Elves was on his feet in an instant, glaring daggers at Boromir. "This is no mere Ranger", he declared, "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance!"

The Man blinked at the Elf, then glanced at the Ranger. "Aragorn?" He asked. "This is Isildur's heir?"

Frodo just sat there, wondering what all of this was about.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." The Elf stated.

Aragorn lifted a soothing hand. _"Havo dad, Legolas"_ , he said with a calm voice.

"Gondor has no king." Boromir growled. "Gondor needs no king." He sat down on his chair again, but still glared at the Ranger. Legolas returned to his seat too, though he kept watching the Gondorian.

Alex watched the man scowl deeply at Aragorn, though he didn't bother getting closer. He was quite impressed by the man's determination to get his fingers at the Ring. He was going to keep a close eye on the guy.

"Aragorn is right", Gandalf spoke again. "We cannot use it."

"You only have one choice", Elrond agreed. "The Ring must be destroyed."

' _Excellent idea.'_ The Virus thought. _'Maybe I can crush that thing with the Hammerfists, or with the Musclemass...After everybody went to bed, of course. Wouldn't want to give them reason to shoot me.'_ He growled at the whispers of Sauron. The Dark Lord was trying to move him forwards, to make him kill the people around and claim the Ring, but Alex wasn't moving. This disembodied voice couldn't tell him what to do. If there was somebody in control over Blacklight, it was Alex Mercer, not Sauron.

He did watch the other's reaction to Elrond's declaration.

Boromir slumped into his seat with a defeated groan. Frodo looked fearfully over to the Ring sitting innocently atop the pedestal.

Suddenly one of the Dwarves got up, brandishing his axe. "Then what are we waiting for?!" He asked as he stepped to the front. He slammed his axe down with all his might, but the Ring gave an ear-splitting screech that made Alex wince in pain. The Dwarf was flung on his back from the sheer force of the blow and his weapon shattered. The Ring remained sitting on the pedestal as if nothing happened. Frodo was holding his head, panting with his eyes screwed shut.

The Ring whispered in the black tongue, as if it was taunting them.

It pissed Alex off even some more. How dare a piece of metal mock him?

Elrond looked a bit smug, glancing at the Dwarf, who stared in shock at the broken remains of his Axe. "The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin", The Elf Lord explained, "By any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. The Ring must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came."

Alex scowled at the revelation, since he never encountered anything that he _couldn't_ break. But maybe Elrond was right, maybe it was easier to just throw it into the lava of an active volcano.

Elrond paused, looking at the crowd. "One of you must do this."

An awkward long pause followed and everybody glanced around uncertainly.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor", Boromir explained in defeat. "Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten-thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

Legolas was on his feet again, snapping at the soldier. "Have you heard nothing of what Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

Gimli raised his voice, directing his anger at Legolas. "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?"

"And if we fail?" Boromir seethed, getting up to shout into Legolas' face. "What then? What happens if Sauron takes back what is his?"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" Gimli threw in, "Never trust an Elf!"

About now, everybody leapt to their feet, shouting and arguing over what was to do. Aragorn rolled his eyes and slumped back in his seat a bit more, Gandalf had gotten up to try to get all of them to shut up, Elrond looked more or less annoyed with the whole situation, but didn't bother trying to shut them up.

As they continued to bicker, the Prototype set his eyes on the Ring. He could hear the Dark Lord's whispers in his mind- soft and lulling as he promised great power in exchange for the Ring. Alex scowled deeply. _He_ could do that just fine on his own, thank you very much. He didn't need any stinking Ring to do whatever he wanted to do. If he was to take over this place, then he would do that on his own and not through some magic piece of Bling. And especially not under the orders of some Dark Lord. Alex was the King here, not Sauron, and Kings don't take orders.

Maybe he should just sack Middle Earth simply to spite the Dark Lord, show him who's the stronger of both.

His thoughts stopped there with a screeching halt.  
Like _hell_ he was gonna do shit like that. He was better than _that_. He was better than that bitch Elizabeth Greene.

He lifted his head, listening to the people arguing, then turned his gaze to the Ring. It was still whispering to his mind.

' _If it is speaking with me, isn't it possible it is speaking to the others, driving them mad?'_ He wondered. If it did, then he had to put his foot down now before these idiots here started to beat each other up. After all, not all of them could deal with having multiple voices inside their head.

He cleared his throat. "You know", Alex' voice suddenly cut in, sharp like his Whipfist and silencing the arguments. "I would volunteer for taking the Ring to Mordor. It would be easy to sneak to the mountain and throw the Ring in before Sauron notices."

Everybody turned to stare at him, trying to figure out whether he was lying. The Blacklight Virus just shrugged. "I do not fear Sauron or Orcs or even poisonous fumes" He chuckled, but there was no amusement in it. "Hell, I'm pretty sure I would get off on that, killing Orcs left and right and listening to their bones shatter beneath my heel." He leaned back, glancing at the crowd. "I _am_ faster than any other living being. I can kill somebody by ripping him in half. I do not require food, water or rest as much as you do. Logically, I am the best choice to destroy the Ring." He lifted his hand, cutting off any upcoming discussion. "I know that you don't trust me. I wouldn't trust _myself_. I am a Wraith, aren't I? Don't trust one of those things that serve the Dark Lord. You have my word that I wouldn't touch the Ring with a ten-foot pole."

"Your word is worth nothing", Boromir grumbled in irritation.

"So?" The Virus growled. "At least I know that the Ring isn't something to be used in battle, Boromir." He glared at the man, making him shrink back a little. "You can ask Aragorn what happened after I _killed_ a Nazgûl and subsequently survived being stabbed through the heart by a Morgul Blade. I turned _insane_." He waved his hand towards the golden band sitting on the pedestal, ignoring their startled gasps. "I can _hear_ Sauron from over here, trying to pull me over to his side. So if he can do that on a _distance_ , what do you think would happen if I was actually _touching_ the thing, huh? You can believe me if I tell you that I value my sanity more than power."

"The words of a Wraith", Boromir scoffed.

"At least I'm honest about it, _human_ ", Alex growled. "I wouldn't touch the Ring myself, but I would sure as Hell try to prevent Sauron from getting it."

"Do you have no love for your master?" One of the Dwarves asked.

"He _isn't_ my master. I serve no-one but myself. And frankly, he _pisses me off_. So destroying Sauron isn't something I'd be doing for you. I'd be killing off his fucking ass because I want to." Alex smirked. "I wouldn't mind some company who throws the Ring into the lava, though."

"That's insane!" Boromir shouted, "Nobody would trustingly march with you!"

"I will take it."

Everybody turned to Frodo's thin voice. The Hobbit steeled himself and repeated his previous statement. "I said I will take it." They stared at the Halfling as if he had gotten mad. "I will take the Ring to Mordor", Frodo declared with determination. "Though..." He trailed off. "I do not know the way."

There was a pause until Alex stepped to the front, giving the pedestal a wide berth as he moved to stand next to the Hobbit. "Then I'll be with you on this, Frodo", the Blacklight Carrier declared. "You trust me and that is more than enough for me to stay with you and keep Sauron's forces off your back."

Frodo looked at him gratefully. "Thank you, Alex."

"You're very welcome."

Gandalf cleared his throat. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins", he claimed as he stepped behind the Hobbit, putting a soothing hand on his shoulder. "As long as it is yours to bear."

Aragorn got up next without missing a beat. "If by my life or death I can protect you, you have my sword."

"And you have my bow", Legolas spoke up, stepping up to them as well.

"And my axe", Gimli claimed, shouldering his way to the front as well.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one", Boromir stated with a rather unhappy expression, "If this is the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

"Hey!" Elrond turned to stare at Sam who suddenly burst from the bushes. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me!"

"No, indeed", Elrond chided the Hobbit. "It is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not."

Sam at least had the decency to blush and duck his head a bit.

"Hey!" Merry and Pippin dashed around the pillars they have been hiding behind. "We are coming too!"

Elrond sighed with an exasperated tone. "Ten companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great", Pippin piped up. He grinned. "Where are we going?"


	7. The Ring goes South

**Author: EDIT: Original updated on 15th February 2016, New Version on 2nd May 2016. Wordcount nearly tripled, too. These chapters do get longer every time I work them over. *sigh***

* * *

The Ring goes South

Two months.

 _Two_ _whole months_.

Alex groaned in defeat as he dragged himself through the Halls of Rivendell, ignoring the few Elf Night Guards around in favour for dropping against the wall, thunking his head against it with a dull _thud_.

Why were humans so _slow_?

He really hadn't expected them to immediately jump to their feet and start walking to this Mordor country after their little Fellowship had been founded, but he had thought they wouldn't waste much more than a week, maybe one and a half with the preparations.

It was a simple reason for a quick departure, really. The Ring was the sole source of Sauron's power, it was downright _evil_ (as far as inanimate objects could show any sign of personality) and thus it needed to be destroyed as soon as somehow possible. And yet, despite this quite logical course of action, the Fellowship insisted on wasting _two fucking months_ , so they could all go together.

Hell, two and a half weeks after Elrond's council Alex was short before hauling Frodo to Mount Doom by himself and make him throw the blasted Ring into the lava, mostly because his patience had run thin and his hunger had begun acting up again, leaving him in a foul mood.  
However, the entire Fellowship objected and was quite adamant about leaving _together,_ or not at all and they wouldn't hand Frodo over to him. Alex suspected at least Aragorn had an idea about his dietary habits that made him stop him and Legolas was always taking the Ranger's side. Gimli had openly claimed that a Wraith wasn't allowed to be close to the Ring, and Boromir had agreed, though he was still not entirely convinced that the Virus really was a Wraith. According to him, Alex was just a moody human who was-admittedly- quite strong. Gandalf said nothing, even when the Hobbits hurried to Alex' defence, since he had done his best keeping the Nazgûl off their backs at the Amon Sûl.

The Prototype had almost decided to screw it all and leave them to stew in their own problems when something inside his head told him to not go. He needed them just as much they needed him, they were the direction, he was the power. In a way, the Fellowship was like Dana, so Alex stayed with them.

Luckily though, he wasn't forced to stick around Rivendell so much anymore since Gandalf had spoken to the Lord Elrond just the next day. He had pointed out that the virus was much better suited keeping their borders under control, for he was fast and powerful. Alex was even allowed to patrol the Trollshaws without anybody to keep check of him, as long he reported back every few days to either Aragorn or Gandalf upon his return.

The Prototype had agreed to the conditions, even if it made him feel like a dog tethered to a leash. But at least in this way, he managed to get his mind off the irritation over the waste of time and the overall distrust the Fellowship showed him. And it also allowed him to go hunt for fresh Orcs, so Alex seized the chance without further complaints.

A tiny part in his brain told him that he should keep a close eye on Gandalf though, seeing as he was the one who suggested this type of recess activity to him. This didn't sit all too well with the Prototype, because it implied that the Wizard knew of his feeding habits.

But Alex finally got something to chew on and that was fine with him.

His patience was starting to wear thin though, and he was getting more and more irritated by the Fellowship's slow progress. It shouldn't be so hard to get supplies, bedding, food and weapons ready for a trek across the country, should it?

Humans. He was never going to understand them.

He furrowed his brows, glaring darkly at nothing in particular from his position leaned against the wall. When this was all over and Sauron had cost them many lives, then he would rub it into their faces that he would have done this much faster. Alex didn't even consider that the Dark Lord would win. He pissed the Blacklight Carrier off and thus, he was going to die. There was no question on that. He was even going to postpone his attempt to get back home for that.

' _But what about Dana?'_

' _Is she awake? Is she well?'_

' _Did Blackwatch find her?'_

Alex growled at the sudden realization. He couldn't waste any more time here. He had to get back home. He had to continue to protect Dana from the Infected, from Blackwatch...and he had to tell her the truth. But for this, he needed the full approval from the Lady Galadriel, and that meant he had to move with the Fellowship.

Their disapproval be damned.

He furrowed his brows, realizing that it was Christmas Eve already. His mind came to screeching halt.

He was stuck here already for more than three months with no chance to return home. Three months in which he had no idea how Dana was doing.

He had to get to her before something happened. He had to keep Blackwatch off her trail.

The Virus beneath his skin lurched violently, and Alex' hand shot out, sinking deep into the wall besides him with a satisfying _crack_. He couldn't waste any more time here. He had to return home.

With a growl, he pushed himself off the wall and turned to march down the hallway. He could hear the Elves scramble aside, he could sense them grabbing their bows in response to his foul mood. Two months, and they still saw him as a threat.

But that was okay. Alex didn't intent to be their best friend anyways. Even if he didn't acknowledge them as food anymore, he still saw them as a threat, exactly like they saw him.

As he rushed along the hallway, ignoring the guards around him, he wondered again why he even bothered. He was the apex predator here, none of the people here would even have a chance at trying to stop him. He could just force his way to the Lady Galadriel, could make her do whatever the hell he tells her to. He could even consume her and get what he wanted that way.

But he didn't.

Instead, he tried to keep at a low profile. He kept most of his powers hidden and tried to pass as a 'Wraith', though he was well-aware that pretty much everybody here had their suspicions about it. Fuck this, he wasn't here to make friends. These guys were a means to an end and he wasn't going to become close with them or help them any further than Galadriel.

Like Cross.

Thinking of the Blackwatch Captain made Alex scowl deep. Did he even keep to his own words? Could he trust in him?  
Or was the Specialist going to betray him just as Karen did?

He stopped, clenching his fists to prevent them shifting into claws. Cross was Blackwatch, Cross had send him into a load of dangerous missions, didn't bother telling him who he really was until he approached him and told him of the suspicions he had.

Logically, he shouldn't have trusted him, and still he did.

Because the Specialist was the only chance he had at defeating Elizabeth Greene and rescue his sister from the nuclear strike.

Alex paused as his mind flashed back to his last moment in Manhattan.

 _The Supreme Hunter lay in a bleeding heap on the flight deck of the Reagan. Alex scowled. His own body was seriously damaged, so he took the risk to consume the Hunter's remains in an attempt to heal himself._

 _He was mildly surprised that its makeup was easier for him to assimilate, but that was to be expected from a thing that was essentially a bastard spawn between him and Greene.  
At least it didn't give him indigestion this time, even as its memories shot through his head and settled down quickly._

 _He heard a low groan and turned to see Cross on the floor a few yards away where the Supreme Hunter had thrown him. Alex could hear the man's bones grin against each other, he could hear his heart hammer against his ribcage, could smell the blood seeping into his uniform from the many wounds he had gotten during the battle with the Hunter. It would be easy to consume him too and get rid of another potential enemy._

 _But he didn't._

 _The Prototype hurried over to him, pulling him off the floor where the Captain had managed to roll over to his hands and knees. He could hear the man's sharp intake of breath as soon Alex' hand brushed his shoulder. Cross believed he was going to consume him, but Alex didn't._

 _He helped him stand upright and, after a short moment, helped him move to the warhead sitting on the flight deck._

" _Why?" Cross just asked._

" _Why?" Alex parroted. "Why what?"_

" _Why are you helping me?"_

" _Shouldn't I?" The virus replied. "You helped me. I think I owe you that much."_

 _Cross grunted in pain, pressing his free arm against the deep gash just across his stomach._

 _Alex settled him down near the warhead, then went to drag a few chains over._

" _There is no way to disarm the thing", the Captain noticed startled. "Fucking Randall...He was going to blow up New York!"_

" _I know", the Prototype replied, "That's what I need the chains for." He threw a glance at the timer ticking away, realizing that it had been damaged in the battle and was only showing hieroglyphs._

" _Fuck", Cross ground out, even as he held tightly to a chain to help attaching the bomb to a Blackhawk Helicopter. "How much longer till it blows?"_

" _Not much", Alex replied with a grim expression. "I'm going to get it out, drop it into the ocean. And get back. Hopefully."_

" _Why do you bother?" Cross suddenly asked. "Protecting New York?"_

 _The Prototype scowled. "Because my sister is still there", he growled. "I can't let you idiots blow up the place with her still there."_

 _Cross didn't reply, but his hands stopped for a moment. "Dana. I see", he muttered. He turned to glance at Alex, his blue eyes locking with the Virus' face. "What you did here today was something not many people would have done. If you get the bomb away from here, then you'll safe millions of lives, not only Dana."_

" _Given the chance that I manage to get it out", Alex growled, ignoring the fact that the Captain knew about Dana. But this much was clear since he had already figured out where Ragland was._

 _The Specialist got up, pulling away from the warhead. "Mercer", he said, drawing Alex' attention. "I will make sure that Blackwatch won't pursue Dana or Ragland."_

 _The Blacklight carrier turned, eyeing the man with surprise. "What?!"_

" _I owe you", Cross explained. "You have my word. Now get the fuck out of here"_

 _Alex nodded and slipped into the Blackhawk, setting all systems on go._

" _Cross?" He called out over the growing roar of the helicopter blades, "Can you keep those idiots over there off my ass?"_

 _The Captain turned, glaring at the approaching Blackwatch soldiers. "I can", he agreed. "Now hurry the fuck up. I don't want to get vaporized. I have home leave in a few days!"_

" _You fuck this up, I'll eviscerate you and use your guts to strangle these idiots without thinking twice", Alex shouted back. The engines were running at full power, and Alex only pressed the controls down, forcing the helicopter to take off and take its cargo with it._

The Prototype frowned, then growled again. He still didn't trust Cross, but he didn't have a choice back then.

He had to get back, no matter the price.

"Can't find any peace?"

Alex was startled when Strider spoke up besides him. He had already whirled around and had nearly formed his claws before he realized that the Ranger had sneaked up on him.

 _Sloppy._

"Normally it is hard sneaking up on you, but you didn't even notice me until I spoke." Aragorn pointed out. "It looks like you have been very deep in thoughts." Alex huffed out, but didn't bother with a reply as he calmed down, watching the Ranger. He looked...kind of worked up.

"What's gotten into you?" He asked, though he wasn't really interested in a real answer. To his surprise, Aragorn slumped his shoulders and sat down on a bench nearby, placing a wrapped object besides him.

"I just talked to the Lord Elrond...I do not know which path I have to walk."

"Mordor's not gonna be signposted, but I'm also sure it's pretty hard to miss..." Alex pointed out as if it was obvious. He thought Aragorn was going to be the leader of their ragtag group?

Aragorn paused and looked at the Virus. Alex frowned. _Wasn't that what he meant_? He really wasn't very good with reading human emotions.

' _And why the Hell do I even care?!'_

To his surprise, the Ranger chuckled softly. "No. Not the way we have to go to destroy the One. I meant the way in front of me. The path I am destined to take."

 _Oh. That is what he meant._

"You know, once I've started going down one of the paths in front of me, I have to continue along it. The other ways are going to disappear the longer I walk on the one I chose."

Alex inclined his head, and despite his insistence on not getting too attached to the Fellowship, he thought about what Aragorn had said. "You are afraid", he noticed. "You are scared of what your future will be like."

"Probably", Aragorn admitted. Alex furrowed his brows and sat down besides him. The bench creaked under his weight.

"I think you worry too much", he said slowly. "I think there is no right or wrong." He paused, thinking of Blackwatch. "The soldiers that hunted me, they believed they did the right thing. I thought they were all wrong. It's a matter of the own point of view. You just have to pick a way you want to live for the rest of your life. A way you find yourself most comfortable with. But then you have to stay stubborn and continue that way and not let anybody tell you what to do." He shrugged. "My best guess is that sooner or later you are going to do the right thing if you don't let anybody bring you off from your path. And if you die before, then you can always say that you did your best."

Aragorn smiled. "Thank you for your words, Alex."

"Don't tell anybody", the Virus warned him. "I plan to be the nasty scowly son-of-a-bitch to the rest of the Fellowship."

"I am aware", Aragorn agreed. He tilted his head. "Tomorrow we will leave Rivendell and head for the Misty Mountains. We need to cross it, since the path through Rohan is going to take us too close to Isengard."

"Fucking finally!" Alex groaned. "I was about to grab you and make you hurry up, you know."

"Your heart yearns to return to your home, you want to get back to your sister, do you?"

"I'm worried for her health. Also, there were monsters there, I don't want to lose her because I couldn't protect her."

"You need to have hope", Aragorn said. "Once we crossed the Misty Mountains, we will head straight for Lothlórien and meet up with Lady Galadriel. She is wise and powerful, maybe she will find a way."

"The sooner I'm out of your hair, the better", the Prototype agreed. "It's not healthy to be around me."

"Because you are a Wraith", the Ranger summarized. "But not really, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Wraith do not possess a body, can not interact with the living without help." Aragorn pointed at Alex. "You are not a Wraith, Alex, though you are neither Man nor Elf. I would like to know who you really are, but it is not in my interests to force you. If you wish to unveil your past to me, then it is your decision."

The Prototype didn't say anything. He frowned, thinking about it. "Maybe", he agreed. "Maybe I'll tell you. Though I wish I'd rather not. I just want to get home." He paused. "I would like to know how in Hell I ended up here anyways."

"I believe that your arrival here was a work of the Fates", Aragorn explained in all seriousness. "There is a reason you are here at this time." He inclined his head. "And I believe this reason was to help us defeat the Evil that plagues this land."

Alex scoffed. "I don't believe in fate", he growled. "But I admit, I do believe in killing someone to make life better for everybody." He shook his head. "But it isn't _my_ place to do something about Sauron. He's your bad guy, not mine. Unless..." He paused, furrowing his brows beneath his hood. He thought about it. He didn't really have a reason to fight alongside the humans of Middle Earth and yet... "Sauron did piss me off. He blatantly told me to kill you, and I see this as a major reason to kick his ass. I'm nobody's pet."

"Did he?" Aragorn seemed surprised. "You are a stranger to us, and you don't seem to be opposing violence. And still you refused to listen to his voice. Lesser men wouldn't have been able to withstand."

"Well, my preference for violence has nothing to do with you." The Prototype explained. "I respect you, and that is not something I do often. Also, none of you harmed me until now or actively _tried_ to harm me. I have no reason to hurt you in any way." He shrugged. "At least, you give me a direction to go into rather than leaving me scrambling in the dark." The Prototype watched the Ranger. "And I'm going to go with you to Galadriel. But after that, I'll be on my own way."

"Very well", the Ranger clapped the other man's back before. "The journey is going to reveal a lot about our fates. Let us hope that Fate is going to be kind to either of us." He took the wrapped object and removed the cloth around it, revealing an Elven Sword. "Lord Elrond asked me to give this to you", Aragorn explained, holding it to the Virus. "It is a mighty blade, forged from the masters of Rivendell. It shall accompany you and give you strength. And-" He smiled, "With it you won't need to use Nazgûl swords to battle them."

Alex took it hesitantly and eyed the blade. He didn't really need a sword, since he was essentially a weapon himself, but it would be quite useful trying to keep his cover without blowing it any further "That is a very nice sword", he admitted. "If you want me to keep it, then I will."

Aragorn smirked. "The smiths chose to call it _Morn-Galad_."

Alex paused, watching the Ranger with surprise. " _Blacklight_ , huh? Wow. Whoever said you guys don't have humour is a damn liar."

* * *

It was quite early in the next morning when the Fellowship stood together in front of the courtyard of Rivendell. Several dozen of Elves was there with them, watching them. Elladan and Elrohir stood besides Arwen, though the Twins looked much brighter than Arwen did. The Twins were proud for their little brother to go on such an important mission while Arwen was nearly devastated that Aragorn left.

Besides his new owner Sam, Bill the Pony kicked the ground once and snorted, but kept silent otherwise. The Prototype watched the leaves of the trees fall gently to the ground. This was it. He was going to leave with the Fellowship and trek over the mountains to reach the Lady Galadriel. He was trying to be on his best behaviour.

Elrond gazed at the ten sternly. "The Ring-Bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom", he began and Frodo shuffled his feet uncertainly. Alex knew perfectly well that the Hobbit wasn't really happy about his own decision, but he was going to pull through with it. Elrond turned his attention to the Fellowship. "On you who travel with him, no oath or bond is laid to go further than you will." He inclined his head. "Farewell. Hold to your purpose." His gaze swept from Legolas to Boromir. "May the blessings of Elves and Men-" his gaze moved to Gimli and he faltered for just a tiny second, "-And all free folk go with you." He spread his arms to either side and Legolas and Aragorn bowed their heads in front of him.

Gandalf cleared his throat, turning his attention to Frodo. "The Fellowship awaits the Ring-Bearer."

Frodo swallowed and slowly turned, walking hesitantly through the stone arch behind the group. He paused, realizing that the path split in two just in front of him. "Gandalf?" He whispered. "Mordor, is it left or right?"

"Left", Gandalf whispered back and Frodo began marching into the mentioned direction. The Fellowship followed after him, first Gandalf, then the Hobbits and Gimli, Legolas and Boromir. Alex waited for Aragorn to move, mostly because he had no intentions to walk inside the group. He either follows them, or he walks in the front.

Aragorn looked back at Arwen and smiled at her in a reassuring manner. Arwen exhaled and lowered her gaze in defeat, making Aragorn turn and start walking away from her.

As the Fellowship pulled away from the Last Homely House, everybody knew that there was no turning back.

* * *

By the third day Alex figured out that the group was actually really decent. He didn't spend much time with them in Rivendell, since he mainly stuck around Aragorn or the Hobbits, but now he didn't have much choice but to learn to deal with them. Alex was content with following after them and stick around their campsite during the night, keeping watch on the surrounding area. They had made good progress too, moving almost faster than just Aragorn and the Hobbits.

By the middle of the second day, they had left the forest area behind and have been moving across half-open plains covered with grass, shrubbery and small boulders. The air became crisper the higher they climbed into the mountainous area. Aragorn had told him at the end of the second day that they tried to get over the High Pass, a way Gandalf had moved along decades ago. The Redhorn Pass was not passable at this time of the year and the Gap of Rohan would lead them too close past Isengard. Alex nearly objected, seeing that he would have loved to go through there and cripple Saruman's breeding machinery. However, his idea would have been shot down faster than he could snap-kick a Blackwatch Apache out of the air, so he kept his mouth shut. They didn't trust him and arguing for going past near one of their enemies wouldn't have a very good influence on his overall reputation. He didn't need them, but he also somehow didn't want them to ditch his ass somewhere.

The Prototype watched them settle down for the fifth night after leaving Rivendell. Gimli and Sam prepared the bonfire, while Legolas made sure that Bill was properly cared for. Aragorn kept an eye on Merry and Pippin, while Frodo and Gandalf began to prepare supper.

' _Dana would have loved it here'_ , Alex thought randomly as several memories stolen from Blackwatch Soldiers began comparing the situation with camping trips they made. He remembered that Dana once told him that she would love to go camping one day, or make a road trip across the states.

His body shivered once in warning, and Alex turned his head slightly to watch Boromir. The man was glaring at him.

"Is there something you want, Boromir?" the Virus asked. The Gondorian frowned at him, crossing his arms.

"I want to know your reason for being here", the man replied after a short moment. "The real reason."

"Sauron is an ass and needs to die", Alex replied with a shrug. "But it's not me who's gonna do that. That is going to be your job."

"Is it?" Boromir questioned.

"It is. I only come with you to Galadriel, not a step further." He frowned. "Most likely. I just require her assistance in a personal matter, and you are the ones that will allow me to meet her without getting arrows pointed at my face."

The Gondorian was slightly taken back by his honesty, since he didn't expect anything like it, though he quickly collected himself.

"You claimed to be a Wraith", he pointed out, "But I do not believe this."

Alex shrugged. "Well, you're not wrong. I am not a real Wraith, or at least none of yours. But-" He lifted his hand, halting Boromir's rant. "I am not human either. Let's just say I'm a one-of-a-kind and pretty close to Wraith, okay?"

"That's it?" Boromir bit out, "No closer details?"

"That's it", Alex gave back. "I do no want to tell you about myself, since I have no interest in staying here. I am going to get back to my home and you don't need to know any more." He paused, watching the Gondorian closely. "I am worse than a Nazgûl, Boromir. So much worse." Alex snorted with a lop-sided scowl. "I have no desire being near the Ring, if that is what you are scared of. It would drive me to madness, but even _you_ shouldn't even think of taking it. That piece of metal- it is really bad news."

The Gondorian scoffed and stepped back. "What makes you believe that I would try to take it?"

"Really?" Alex stared at the man deadpan. "I've seen the way you looked at it in the Council. I see how you watch Frodo the entire time." He lowered his voice, leaning closer to Boromir. "I know when somebody wants to take what isn't his own. And trust me-" The Blacklight Virus let his eyes flash crimson for a short moment, just enough for the Gondorian to back off startled. "-I won't tolerate you trying to take the Ring as long I am around, got it?"

Boromir nodded hastily and quickly hurried off to join the remaining Fellowship for supper. They didn't seem to have realized what happened, but Alex did enjoy the way the Gondorian kept peeking over his shoulder.

* * *

It was around the 8th of January when the group had reached the ridge of a mountain and settled down to pause there. The climb up here had been quite strenuous and the Hobbits had complained about getting a meal. At least Gimli and Boromir had managed to persuade Aragorn by the fourth day that they should take three meals a day and not just two, so now there was a small fire burning and Sam was cooking sausages and bread in a pan. All around them there were even more mountains, towering high above them. The air was crisp and the sky was mostly clear.

"We must hold this course west of the Misty Mountains for forty days", Gandalf explained to Gimli, waving his pipe into the mentioned direction. "If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open for us. From there, our road turns east to Mordor." Gimli harrumphed, but didn't say anything at the moment. He was rather glaring at the sky as if he had a personal vendetta against it.

Alex, who was perched atop a large boulder to keep watch, cleared his throat. Gandalf exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Of course, Master Mercer, I did not forget about you." He glanced at the viral abomination above him. "Once we have passed the Misty Mountains, we pass very close by the forests of Lothlórien. We wouldn't waste too much time heading to Caras Galadhon, where Galadriel resides."

"If anyone was to ask for my opinion", Gimli pointed out, "Which, I'm note they're _not_ , I'd say we're taking the long way round." He puffed out a cloud of smoke, turning to face the Wizard. "Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome."

Gandalf shook his head and Alex noticed his heart rate peaking. "No Gimli", He said with a firm voice, "I would not take the road through Moria unless I had another choice."

A royal welcome sounded promising, but the virus wasn't going to tell Gandalf to go a different way. Instead, he turned his attention to the Hobbits.

Frodo and Sam sat on a flat boulder, eating their sausages while watching Merry and Pippin spar with Boromir. Aragorn watched them, giving pieces of advice from time to time.

The Prototype watched them too with amusement. The shorties would be dead meat in a real combat, but the Gondorian was doing a good job teaching them how to fight.

He did remember when Aragorn asked him to spar with him. That...did go about as well as a house fire. Alex had needed only one single blow to completely bring the Ranger to his knees and nearly snap either his sword or his arm in half. In the last moment, the Virus had completely stopped all movements and prevented exactly that from happening. Aragorn took it with stride and didn't mention how much the blow rattled his bones. The Fellowship came to the conclusion that while their hooded companion had nearly no sword skills to speak of, he was quite powerful and his brute strength would easily overpower any enemy he came upon.

Alex let his gaze move over to where Legolas stood on a rock. The Elf was watching the distance and Gandalf had turned his attention at the spot he was looking at too. There was a dark spot in the sky, but the virus dismissed it.

Pippin made a short exclamation of pain as he dropped his sword, drawing Alex' attention away from Legolas and Gandalf.

"Sorry!" Boromir yelped. He wanted to look at the Hobbit's hand, but got a kick in the shin for his troubles.

He jumped back in pain or surprise on one leg, but Merry ferociously punched his other knee, sending him stumbling to the ground.

"Get him!" Merry yelled and pounced at the Man, who went down in a mocking defeat. Aragorn was grinning, struggling to hide his laughter.

"For the Shire!" Pippin shouted, "Hold him! Hold him down, Merry!" Boromir was laughing from under the Hobbit pile. He could probably get up with no problems, but he did have to defend himself from grasping Hobbit hands.

Aragorn was still chuckling, but he did raise his voice as he moved over and tried to free his fellow Man. "Gentlemen, that's enough", he declared, grabbing Merry and Pippin on either shoulder.

The Hobbits thought different. They quickly turned, both grabbing a leg of the Ranger and just pulled, taking his balance. Aragorn quite literally flew backwards and hit the floor with a dry wheeze, where he stayed in a daze.

The other three continued laughing, but Sam noticed the dark spot that had become larger by now.

"What is that?" He asked with furrowed brows.

"Nothing", Gimli grumbled, "It's just a whiff of cloud."

Boromir narrowed his eyes, getting up with either Hobbit on his side. "It's moving fast", he grumbled. "...against the wind!"

Alex focused on the spot. He quickly noticed that it was actually composed of many smaller spots, all moving in synch. "Birds?" He wondered out loud.

Suddenly Legolas turned pale. "Crebain from Dunland!" He shouted.

"HIDE!" Aragorn shouted in fear and his tone left no place for arguments.

"Hurry!" Boromir added, grabbing the Hobbits and shoving them out of the open.

The entire Fellowship moved quickly to remove all evidence of their presence. They extinguished the fire, hid their equipment and their package horse, and then quickly dove beneath the rocks or under bushes.

Just a second after all of them were out of sight, a giant swarm of crows shot over them, screeching loudly.

' _Ah, fond memories of Manhattan.'_ Alex thought, watching the birds above circle the area _'I kind of wish there were a few Hunters to beat up.'_

He winced in realization, the idea of Hunters tugged at his primal instincts and reminded him that he, perhaps, could try to grab something to eat. Bread and processed meat were nice, but they barely sated the virus within. Maybe he could slip away and hunt for animals sometimes, but he was afraid that he had to just suck it up and deal with it until they encountered Orcs. But once they did, he hoped his companions would be too busy to notice him grab a bite to eat from them.

The swarm moved past them and as soon they have left, the Fellowship carefully peeked out of their hiding.

"Spies of Saruman", Gandalf stated, "The passage in the South is being watched." He turned to look at the mountains behind them. "We must take the path of the Caradhras", he muttered darkly.

"Wait a moment", Alex threw in. "You want us to climb over a mountain...in the _middle of winter_?!" He groaned and wiped his palm over his face. "This is a really bad idea."

* * *

They were lucky. The sun was shining and there wasn't even a breeze going for the time they needed to climb the mountain. The snow crunched between their feet as the Fellowship moved along the ridge, panting from the thin air.

Alex instantly hated it. There was no nice paraphrase to it.

It was _cold_. It was _bright_. And when the sun shone on the snow, it nearly blinded him.

The virus swore under his breath, but didn't bother trying to grab a cloak from the package pony. It wouldn't protect him against the cold so well, since he technically wasn't wearing any sort of clothing. His entire Biomass was at the mercy of the cold biting winds. And with his rather low Biomass levels it was quite hard trying to keep his internal temperature at its normal levels. He growled, trying to take his mind off the current situation by trying to figure out how to keep his body temperature stable.

How do Polar Bears do this? They have hollow hairs that trap the air, and a layer of fat beneath their skin. Well, Alex couldn't try to grow fur here, so he had to try to work beneath his outer layers.

He stopped behind the Fellowship as if trying to regain his breath and focussed inside. He shifted the Biomass just beneath his skin to turn foam-like to trap as much air as possible, while also hardening his skin somewhat to prevent the loss of heat.

As he just stood there and waited for his insides to calm down again (and pray that nobody noticed it), Frodo stumbled and nearly rolled off the mountain. Aragorn caught the Hobbit and helped him back up. When Frodo brushed himself off, he quickly realized that the ring had fallen off.

They froze when they realized that it sat in the snow, glistening in the sun. Alex growled under his breath. He was luckily far away enough that it wouldn't have an effect on him, but he was aware that Boromir was too close to it. He picked it up, holding it up on the necklace it was attached to and stared at it.

The Fellowship paused, eyeing the man as if trying to figure out whether he would try to bail or not.

"Boromir?" Aragorn asked, watching the other closely.

"It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt...over so a small thing", the Gondorian muttered. He carefully brushed his fingers against it. "Such a little thing."

"Boromir!" Aragorn said again, louder this time. The other flinched and snapped out of his stupor. He stared at the Ranger with large eyes, who just motioned towards the Hobbit at his side. "Give the Ring to Frodo."

The Gondorian followed the orders slowly, moving rather awkwardly closer and handed the Ring over to Frodo with a mumbled "As you wish"

Frodo snatched the Ring away and Boromir tried to play it down, by claiming that he didn't care for it. He tousled the Hobbit's hair and removed himself, moving back up the mountain.

Alex tilted his head curiously as he watched Aragorn slide his hand off his sword's heft.

* * *

Snow was already bad, but a _blizzard on top of a mountain_ was even worse. And, as it was the nature of mountains, the weather had turned bad within the blink of an eye. Alex was walking in the front, swearing and clearing a path with his inhuman strength while Gandalf was directly behind him. Aragorn and Boromir both carried two Hobbits each, since their bare feet would have frozen off within minutes. Gimli followed them, leading their pony Bill. Legolas brought up the rear, always watching even despite the snow assaulting his eyes.

Bastard was walking on top of the snow. _Fucking Elf Physics_.

He paused in mid-step before speeding up slightly to walk to the front, listening intensely. Alex tightened his eyes, turning his attention to the Elf. "You hear it too?"

Legolas nodded. "There is a fell voice in the air."

Gandalf's eyes widened. "It's Saruman!", he shouted in warning.

 _CRACK_

High above them something broke and massive boulders dropped from the steep cliffs towards them. The Fellowship ducked against the wall. Luckily, the rocks did miss them, but the incident clearly was no coincidence.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn shouted over the howling wind. "Gandalf! We must turn back!"

"No!" The Wizard yelled with a panicked expression. He struggled atop the snow and began shouting even over the howling of the wind. _"Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!"_

Alex didn't understand it at first, but he could hear the other voice picking up as well, increasing the blizzard around them. He understood immediately. Gandalf was trying to shout Saruman's influence away, though he didn't have much success.

Saruman was apparently stronger. The storm only worsened and a lightning bolt hit the mountainside above them with a loud thunder strike. Snow and rocks tumbled downwards, towards the Fellowship.

Alex swore and dove at Gandalf and Legolas, pulling both of them away from the open and closer to the wall before anyone of them could even react. The others quickly followed him and they barely managed to duck when the avalanche hit.

The mountain calmed down and as soon no more snow came off, the Fellowship quickly dug themselves out.

Alex swore under his breath. He really, really, really hated snow.

The Blizzard was still howling, albeit slightly less angry than before.

"We must get off the mountain!" Boromir shouted. "Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

"The Gap to Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn argued.

"When we can't climb over the mountain", Gimli threw in, "Let us go under it! Let us go to the Mines of Moria!"

Alex could see the poorly hidden fear that threatened to crawl onto Gandalf's face. He was scared of the place, but why?

Anyways, if they wouldn't manage to come to a conclusion soon, he would drag them all off that mountain and elbow his way through the damn Gap of Rohan, screw Isengard.

The wizard swallowed. "Let the Ring-Bearer decide", he finally claimed.

Frodo looked at them, shivering through the biting cold and Boromir decided to add something to the situation. "We cannot stay here!" He yelled, "This will be the Death of the Hobbits!"

"Frodo?" Gandalf asked.

The Hobbit didn't need long to decide. "We will go through the mines", he said.

The wizard deflated in defeat. "So be it."

* * *

The trek off the mountain was filled with tense silence. Aragorn couldn't really blame his companions. The snow storm has taken a lot of their strength and Gandalf seemingly did not want to enter Moria, despite Gimli's claims that it was perfectly safe. However, it seemed as if it was the only chance they got.

They needed the better of two days to leave the Caradhras and reach the Western Gate of the Dwarven Stronghold. The nights had been largely uneventful, except for a near attack of several wolves the night before. Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas had quickly gotten ready to fight them off, when Alex had gotten up and literally _growled_ into their direction. The wolves retreated quickly, without even showing themselves and their hooded Companion had unceremoniously planted himself back onto the floor with a disgruntled huff.

It now was the second night after the disastrous escape from the Redhorn Pass. Clouds were covering the sky when the Fellowship moved past several ruins. Aragorn listened to Gandalf speaking with Frodo, reminding him that he couldn't trust anybody and that darkness threatened to take over the Fellowship. Aragorn agreed mentally with the Wizard. Boromir and Alex both worried him, for both of them began turning more silent. Boromir did try to play it down, did try to resist the lure of the Ring, but Alex showed his displeasure openly.

The Ranger furrowed his brows and eyed his hooded companion. He was trailing far behind them, glaring angrily at nothing in particular. It was almost like the time back at the Amon Sûl, where he snapped, albeit much less violent.

"The Walls of Moria!" Gimli exclaimed. The Fellowship stopped, eyeing the giant steep cliffs that towered high above them.

So they've reached the mines. There was no way back now.

Gimli, Merry and Pippin were seemingly the only ones unaffected by the previous events. "Dwarven doors are invisible when closed", Gimli boasted, knocking his axe against the rock to find the hidden passage.

"Yes, Gimli", Gandalf agreed, "Even their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas asked sarcastically. Gimli only grumbled under his breath.

Water splashed up, drawing the Ranger's attention to Frodo, who stepped into the flat side of a large pool just besides them. He made a startled gasp and edged away from the water while Gandalf stopped in front of the flat stone surface between two old trees.

The Wizard slowly moved his hand across the smooth stone, brushing away the dirt there. He unveiled thin, silvery lines that ran across the cliff.

"Let's see..." he muttered, brushing some more of the dust off to reveal that the lines ran much too even across the stone to be of natural origin. "Ithildin", The Wizard finished, turning to his companions. "It mirrors only starlight. And moonlight."

He turned his attention to the sky, where the dark clouds quickly parted, revealing the bright moon high in the night sky.

The cliff side behind the Wizard started to glow, and the previously unseen Ithildin carving was revealed with a pale blue light. The image of a door appeared before their very eyes, with an inscription at the top and a star in the middle.

Aragorn heard the Hobbits and Boromir gasp in surprise.

Gandalf smiled, pointing his staff at the Elvish text that was engraved on its upper side. "It reads: The doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."

Merry arched his brows. "What do you suppose that means?"

Gandalf smiled at him. "Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open."

He took his staff and spread his arms in a rather dramatic motion. _"Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen!"_

Nothing happened.

Gandalf furrowed his brows. _"Fennas Nogothrim, lesto beth lammen."_

The doors didn't budge. "Nothing's happened", Pippin pointed out unhelpfully. Gandalf glared at him annoyed and tried to push against the door. The entrance remained closed.

The Wizard huffed out in defeat. "I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves...Men...and Orcs", he lamented.

"What are you trying to do, then?" Pippin asked innocently.

Gandalf grumbled unhappily. "Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words."

There was a low rumble besides them and Aragorn turned, realizing how Alex stood as far away from the water as somehow possible. He was glaring at the surface, as if he hated it. Aragorn furrowed his brows. Well, he did hate water, if the way he was constantly avoiding rivers and puddles on their way was any indication, but he never openly growled at it.

The man paused, still watching the water though he did turn his attention to Gandalf. "Gandalf, could you _please_ hurry up? There is something nearby. I don't like it."

"I try!" The Wizard snapped back, "Just give me a little more time."

"Then try faster", the Wraith growled. He paused, glare intensifying at the water when he continued. "Before I rip this blasted door straight out of the cliff!"

* * *

 _An hour later_

" _Ando Eldarinwa..."_ , Gandalf muttered, _"A lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa"_

The door remained stubbornly closed.

Aragorn and Sam were just tending to Bill, removing the saddle bags and bridle from the pony. "The mines are no place for a pony", the Ranger explained, "Even one so brave as Bill."

"Bye-bye, Bill", Sam said sadly. The horse neighed softly and slowly moved away, clip-clopping away into the darkness.

Aragorn squeezed Sam's shoulder. "Don't worry Sam. He knows the way home."

They turned back to where the remaining Fellowship sat. Gimli and Boromir were smoking and Legolas just stood there, watching the Wizard. Merry and Pippin were throwing pebbles into the water in boredom.

"Stop that", Alex hissed at them, startling the Hobbits. "There's something in the water and I don't like it!"

"What is there?" Boromir asked worried. He and Aragorn were both watching the surface. Alex was right. There was something moving beneath the waves. "Can you see it?"

"I can't. Too much water", the hooded man gave back in frustration. "All I know that there is something and that we shouldn't stick around to find out what it is." He turned abruptly. "Gandalf! Anything?!"

"Oh, it's useless!" The Wizard moaned in defeat, sitting down on a rock. He paused, eyeing the Wraith. "How about you try?"

"Good", Alex growled, stepping up to the front of the doors. He cracked his knuckles and pulled one arm back, as if seriously planning to take the gate down. But then Aragorn remembered the way the tree splintered beneath his fist, and he came to the conclusion that he probably would be able to force his way inside.

The hooded man suddenly paused, glaring at the glowing writing.

He lowered his fists. "That's it?" He grumbled, turning to Gandalf. "You had troubles with _this_?"

"I do believe if I hadn't then we wouldn't be having this discussion", the Wizard gave back irritated. "Why don't you enlighten us?"

Alex jabbed his thumb at the inscription. "Whoever wrote this either had no idea of punctuation, likes obvious answers in his riddles or he was a grade-A-dick. He didn't meant to say 'Speak, friend, and enter'." He lifted his hands, hooking index and ring finger while curling the other fingers against his palms. "He meant to say 'Speak "Friend" and enter'."

Gandalf stared at him for a few seconds before it dawned on him. " _Mellon"_ , he whispered.

The door creaked and swung wide open. The Fellowship got to their feet, watching the black opening.

Gandalf muttered something under his breath, but began leading the way anyways. He put a crystal into his staff and continued moving. The Fellowship followed him with Alex being the last. He was still glaring at the water until Aragorn managed to persuade him to turn around and leave it be.

Gimli sounded way too chipper as he spoke with Legolas. "Soon Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitability of the Dwarves. Roaring fire, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone." Gandalf was already lighting up his staff, allowing them to see the remains of a battle field from long time ago. The Dwarf continued, oblivious to the carnage: "This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a Mine. A _Mine_."

"This is no mine" Boromir whispered in shock. "It's a tomb."

The Hobbits gasped in shock at the sight of a Dwarven Skeleton just in front of their feet. The entire room was strewn with bones, broken weapons and armour. The remains were riddled with arrows and covered with cobweb and dust.

"Oh no" Gimli gasped, running towards one skeleton in horror, "Noo!"

There has been a battle, some time ago. And the Dwarves had been slaughtered.

Legolas pulled an arrow from the remains of one Guard. "Goblins", he realized. Aragorn and Boromir had their swords drawn in an instant and the Elf fit in an arrow, glaring around uncertainly while Gimli was moaning in despair.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan", Boromir growled. "We should have never come here."

The Fellowship slowly backed away, knowing fully well that they couldn't go this way. They had to try a different route. "Now get out of here", the Gondorian ordered, "Get out!"

There was a surprised yelp, followed by a series of swear words. The Fellowship whirled around, noting that Alex had been seized by a tentacle and was currently being dragged back towards the water.

"Holy Mother of- -What the Fuck?!" The man roared, struggling against the tentacle that was firmly wrapped around his ankle.

"Strider!" Sam shouted as the other Hobbits tried to hack away at the arm. Alex swore, but he didn't manage to pry his sword free of its sheath, mostly because a second arm was wrapping tightly around his waist. The hooded man twisted and slammed his arm into the soft ground, sinking it to the elbow and thus anchoring himself to the shore.

"Are you kidding me?!" He snapped. "Are you seriously trying to _eat me_?!"

The attacking monster seemingly did, because a second later more tentacles shot from the water, grabbing the Wraith and ripping him off the floor. Alex swore as he found himself suspended head-down with way too many arms wrapped around him. Aragorn and Boromir both leapt at the beast, slashing their swords against its many arms while Legolas shot one arrow after the other at it.

The monster was undisturbed though as it broke the surface completely, revealing a giant maw filled with many sharp teeth and tiny, sunken eyes.

Alex paused for a moment, staring confused at the beast. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He growled. "The _Kraken_ , really? Who am I? Captain Sparrow?!"

His eyes flashed crimson and he began to strain against the tentacles holding him, forcing them to let go of him. "Aragorn!" He shouted, "Get out of here! I can take this thing!"

"Alex!" Aragorn yelled back, "You will not sacrifice yourself! Stop this madness! We will get you down!"

"Sacrifice?!" Alex sounded quite amused, "You underestimate my power!" He twisted his body, grabbed one of the tentacles and simply pulled, ripping it right off the beast. The monster howled in pain, releasing the Wraith. Alex wasted no time to twist his body in mid-fall, hitting the beast's face with his feet.

The monster roared, smashing its tentacles against the man to violently knock him off.

Aragorn winced at the sound of snapping bones and cracking stone as Alex hit the boulders on the side of the water, though he didn't seem to be too bothered by it. Instead, he shot to the front, grabbing another arm and tearing that off too with a roar. Blood and water sprayed in every direction as the beast thrashed.

"Into the mines!" Gandalf shouted. Aragorn and Boromir and the Hobbits turned tail and dashed back towards the entrance, yelling for Legolas to do something.

"Alex!" Aragorn yelled, noticing with shock that their companion was still stuck in a duel with the monster.

"A little busy here!" the hooded man shouted back. Tentacles began wrapping around his body once more, so he stepped backwards out of the water, simply _dragging_ the whole thing with him.

"What are you doing?!" Boromir shouted.

"Getting it out of the water!" Was the reply. "It has fucking gills! So when you get it out of the water, you can end this bastard!" He snarled and ripped another arm off it. "And I will fucking end this bastard! You guys go already, I'll catch up with you!"

"Are you out of your mind?! This thing will kill you!"

"It won't! Now go!"

The monster thrashed wildly, its many arms smashing against the door and the walls of the Mines. The Fellowship yelled when the ceiling began to collapse, forcing them to get inside as fast as possible.

Alex had forgone his struggle with the beast, and even though the monster was still clinging stubbornly to him, he followed after his companions, slashing his finally free sword at the tentacles to make them let go of him.

The entrance was collapsing now entirely, and the Monster shrieked as it was buried beneath tons of rubble.

In a cacophony of falling boulders and pained screeches, the West entrance of Moria caved in completely, dropping all of them in darkness.

The silence that engulfed them was only broken by panting. Gandalf tapped his staff against the ground to light it up. Aragorn noticed Alex standing there, glaring angrily at the cave-in. He was completely drenched with water, and there was still a torn-off tentacle wrapped around his chest.

"We now have but one choice", the Wizard declared grimly, walking to the front. "We must face the long dark of Moria."

The Fellowship had already turned and was following after him when Aragorn heard something like dry grass behind them. Disturbed, he turned around, but found nothing else other than Alex. The hooded man looked royally displeased, though for some reason, he was no longer wet.

And the severed tentacle was gone too.


	8. A Journey in the Dark

**Author: It's Wednesday and I have the entire story finished on my harddrive. Do you know what this means? Three updates per week!  
**

 **Special thanks to alexkehling and krazyfanfiction who have been around since the beginning.**

 **In this chapter I have Alex compare the situation with cake. This is a quote from the Webcomic 'Manly Guys doing Manly Things' by the talented Kelly Turnbull. You should check it out sometimes.**

 **EDIT: Original uploaded 17th February 2016, New Version 6th May 2016. Enjoy.**

* * *

A Journey in the Dark

It was dark with only Gandalf's staff giving off some light. It was barely enough to see the path in front of them, but it had to suffice, now that the exit was blocked and they had to move through Moria.

"Be on your guard", Gandalf told them with a grim expression on his face as he walked to the front, "There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the dark places of the World."

The Fellowship slowly began to move again, following after the Wizard. Aragorn exhaled and wiped some water off his face, chancing a glance back at their companion. Alex was scowling deeply, though it was somewhat mixed with remorse. He threw a glance or two over his shoulder, into the direction of the cave-in. It was almost as if...he felt guilty for what had transpired.

"Aragorn?" He asked suddenly, "Shouldn't we have tried make for the Gap of Rohan?"

"We would have been too close to Isengard", the Ranger told him again.

"Better than walking around in the Dark", the hooded man argued. He fell silent, trailing after them.

The Fellowship climbed a set of stairs and continued to wander through the darkness until Alex spoke up again. "Gandalf? I think we should stop here and rest for the night." He pointed at a small room to the side. "I don't think any of you is going to get any further looking like dead meat and-" He eyed Aragorn and Boromir who were both shivering in their wet clothes, "Getting a pneumonia sounds like it'll be a pain in the ass in here. We have to dry these two off before they get sick."

The Wizard arched his eyebrows. "That is actually quite foresighted." He threw a quick glance at the Hobbits, who were more asleep than awake. "Yes. We need to rest. Come."

The Fellowship quickly filtered into the room. It wasn't really any larger than a large shed, but at least it only had one entrance which was easy to defend and there weren't so many bones around. They quickly moved the bones into a corner and lit a fire with Aragorn and Boromir huddled around it. Alex sat down with his back to one side of the doorway, so he could keep watch.

Boromir had quickly nodded off near the fire. Gimli was snoring too, as well as the Hobbits. Gandalf and Legolas were resting, though neither had their eyes closed.

Aragorn stared into the flickering fire, feeling already better now he was warm and starting to dry off, but there were so many questions in his head that refused him a decent sleep.

"Alex?" He asked silently so he wouldn't disturb the others. "Why did you try to kill the water creature?"

"It tried to eat me", was the flippant reply. "I do not take kindly to things that try to eat me, because-" He stopped himself, mumbling something under his breath.

"Because of what?"

"Nothing important. It is dead and we aren't, so that's a place to start, correct?"

"It's not a very good place", Aragorn pointed out.

"Better than nothing", Alex gave back. "You are still alive and you have all limbs still attached to you. You just need to figure out where to go from there." He paused, looking back to whence they came. "I could try to clear the exit, you know? Then we could try it through the Gap of Rohan."

"I doubt it", Aragorn pointed out. "Even if you manage to move the boulders, the cliffs are still unstable. They could collapse further. And even if we get out, we would waste quite a lot of time trying to get through the Gap. And then there is Isengard." He shook his head. "As much as it pains me, but we need to pass through Moria. But on the other hand, Lothlórien is just at the foot of the mountain. It would be simple to meet with the Lady Galadriel once we passed through here."

"That won't do me any good", Alex muttered, "If you guys kill yourself beforehand." He turned slightly watching him with pale blue eyes. "I hate to admit it, but I do care whether you die or not. You are my first real ally here, Aragorn." He paused again. "I do give a shit about you, Aragorn. And that is high praise coming from _me_."

The Ranger grinned widely. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. No go and take a nap before I strangle you until you pass out. Your choice."

* * *

The next morning began with Alex waking them all. He claimed that he always had a pretty good knowledge of passing time and told them that there had been no disturbances in the night. Aragorn knew he was right, since he had only slept with one eye closed.

After the initial moaning about getting up already on the side of the Hobbits and Boromir, they prepared breakfast. Over food Gandalf explained to the Fellowship that it is was a four-day trek through the mines, maybe less if they managed to find a shortcut. But then he advised them to be silent, lest they wanted to attract too much attention to themselves. Aragorn knew he didn't have to say what exactly was lurking in the dark, they all knew. Goblins and Orcs.

The group began moving. They continued climbing up countless stairs that were still strewn with the carnage of a battle long past. Aragorn could hear Gimli whimper and swear every time they found a Dwarven corpse instead of a Goblin. The air was stale and cold for a moment before a strong draft met them. The Ranger ducked for a second as the air rushed past him with a howl, noting how the Fellowship did the same. Gandalf paused, then warned them to be careful as he moved through a doorway.

The other side wasn't made from crafted stone anymore. Instead, they moved across a narrow ledge that was suspended in mid-air with two deep chasms on either side. Rough, steep cliffs towered on either side of them, so high that Gandalf's staff was unable to illuminate it all. But Isildur's Heir could see a few scaffoldings and rusted chains peek out of the darkness around them, even as they carefully moved through the murky gloom.

They wandered for some time across unstable-looking stone bridges hewn from the rough rock around them, carefully manoeuvring past the endless drops on either side.

But aside from their own breathing and sometimes the whispers amongst each other, everything was silent. The chains above them rattled in the updrafts, but otherwise it was incredibly silent. Aragorn glanced back to Boromir to make sure he was still there. Of course he was, but then his eyes caught the expression on Alex' face, who walked behind the Gondorian. The man seemed...gleeful for a reason. The way he glanced down into the chasms, the way he eyed the scaffolding. Aragorn passed to the side, motioning for Boromir to take his place in the group while he waited for the hooded man to come closer.

"Careful", he told him with a whisper, "You don't want to fall down, do you?"

"I'm seriously thinking about _jumping_ ", Alex replied with a serious tone in his voice. Aragorn made a choking noise, staring at the man with wide eyes. "You- _what?!_ "

Alex blinked in realization. "Oh, right", he muttered, "You guys won't survive dropping a distance like that." He pulled away from the abyss, watching the Ranger. "It's just that all the scaffolding around here, the deep chasms, the incredible distances in a vertical direction remind me of my home", he explained. Aragorn could pick up a tone of sadness in his voice. "I would really _love_ to jump down there and see how far it goes, but I won't do that. You guys could get a heart attack from it and it would probably attract any living thing in here." Alex shook his head. "Forget it, Aragorn. Let's just focus on getting out of here."

The Ranger nodded wordlessly, turning to catch up with the Fellowship that had moved a bit further away. He was aware how much it bothered Alex to be here, and he was determined to help him back home with everything he had. Nobody deserved to be stranded away from his loved ones. Not even a Wraith with a questionable grasp on sanity.

They followed the narrow stone bridges for a while until the ledge met the cliff on the left side, continuing its way as a part of it. Aragorn felt slightly safer now, knowing that they could at least edge along a wall instead of having nothing to hold on on either side.

A doorway appeared from the dark and Gandalf threw a quick glance inside, before leading the way past it. There was nothing worth of seeing there, only something that looked like an old storage space.

The Wizard led the way forwards and through a rather narrow staircase that was confined by smooth boulders on either side. The Hobbits had some troubles climbing up the steep steps, mainly because their shorter size made it hard for them to walk easily.

The Fellowship emerged further up, back at the narrow ledge that was bordered by a steep cliff on one side and an endless drop on the other. However, here were more scaffolds and chains, even some old ladders, indicating that here was one of the actual mining sides of Moria.

Gandalf stroked his fingers against the rock, stopping for a moment to show them fine silvery lines weaved into the stone.

"The wealth of Moria was not in Gold or jewels", Gandalf explained. He held his staff over the abyss and the crystal embedded into its tip shone a bit brighter "But Mithril."

The Fellowship gasped in surprise. The light shone into a deep pit, with scaffolds and old cranes reaching down into the darkness. There was no bottom to be seen. The Dwarves of old had dug in deep into the bedrock on their search for the silvery metal. Aragorn knew that all Mithril that exists today had been mined in Moria at one point. When Moria was lost for reasons unknown to him, the sole source of the material was gone as well, and thus Mithril became the most valuable material in Middle Earth.

"Bilbo had a shirt of Mithril rings that Thorin gave him", Gandalf mentioned with a smile as he turned and continued walking along the ledge.

Gimli made a surprised noise. "Oh, that was a kingly gift", he commented in awe.

Gandalf nodded. "Yes. I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire."

Aragorn noticed Frodo falter in his steps for a moment before he continued as if nothing happened.

As time passed, the Fellowship reached another great hall with an extremely steep staircase that forced them to use their hands as to reach the top of it. Aragorn tried to not think too hard of the skeletons littering the way to the top as his fingers curled against the cold and wet stone for better hold. Pippin lost his footing and nearly slipped, but Merry caught him quick enough to prevent him from falling.

Gandalf was the first to reach the top of the steep climb with a short gasp, where he stopped. Three doorways were in front of him and he just stood there, glancing at each of them for several long moments, enough for the Fellowship to catch up with him.

"I..." He muttered awkwardly, "Have no memories of this place..."

The companions huffed out in defeat. They had to wait until Gandalf would remember, but at least now they could rest.

* * *

Aragorn and Boromir sat next to a small fire they had lit. The Gondorian was staring at it without saying a word, while the Ranger was smoking his pipe, listening to the Hobbits whisper amongst each other. Legolas was leaned against a block of stone and looked around. Gimli was sitting on a rock and was also smoking, though he was throwing glances down at the staircase, to where the remains of his kin lay strewn about.  
The Hobbits were sitting on the floor, exhausted. Alex was sprawled on top of the boulders besides the three doorways, leaving one arm hanging down and the other folded under his chin as he watched the darkness from which they came. Gandalf sat in front of the doors, trying to remember which way to go.

"Are we lost?" Pippin whispered.

"No", Merry gave back.

Pippin furrowed his brows. "I think we are."

"Shh", Sam hushed them. "Gandalf is thinking."

Pippin paused for a moment. "Merry?"

"What?"

"I'm hungry."

Aragorn noticed a movement in the corner of his eye, and when he turned to check it more closely, he noticed it was Alex. He had changed his position, having both arms now closer to his body and the fingers curled against the rough stone. His entire focus was on a spot somewhere further down the staircase and he was seemingly trying to figure out whether what had caught his attention was a threat towards them.

Frodo had noticed the man's glare too and turned to look for whatever he saw, and Aragorn risked a glance as well.

It was a sort of creature that carefully stalked after them, hiding behind any type of cover while watching them intently. It moved easy along the rough terrain, but not fast enough to determine it as threat. Frodo swallowed and turned to hurry over to Gandalf, whispering "Something's out there."

Gandalf didn't even bother looking back. "It's Gollum", he explained.

Frodo paused for a moment, taking in the information. "Gollum?"

"He's been following us for three days", the Wizard pointed out.

"He's escaped the dungeons of Barad-Dûr?" Frodo asked surprised.

"Escaped? Or was set loose?" The Wizard wondered. "And now the Ring has drawn him here."

Aragorn frowned at the barely visible creature beneath. With Gollum here...it could spell trouble. The creature he had captured once and brought to Thranduil's halls a few years ago was quite good in finding the Ring. But it was also quite good in drawing unwanted attention to whoever carried it.

The Ranger turned to watch Gandalf and Frodo instead, knowing that they had to be on their guard, though Gollum wasn't going to try anything with the Fellowship being together like this.

"He will never be rid of his need for it", Gandalf continued, "He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself." He sighed. "Sméagol's life is a sad story." He paused, continuing with a firmer voice. "Yes, Sméagol he was once called. Before the Ring found him...before it drove him mad."

Frodo looked at the creature. "It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance."

"Pity?" Gandalf asked in a tone that made Frodo turn his attention back to him. "It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo?"

Aragorn noticed that Alex had perked up as well, settling his eyes on the Wizard with a frown. The Ranger didn't know much about the Wraith, but he did understand that it was in his nature to be rather violent than merciful. The concept of not killing someone was seemingly strange to him, though he did try to understand it.

"Do not be eager to deal out death in judgement", Gandalf advised, "Even the very Wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or for ill before this is over." He paused and Aragorn noticed Gollum pulling back. "The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many."

Frodo sighed as he flopped down next to the Wizard. "I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened", he muttered in defeat.

"So do all who live to see such time", Gandalf encouraged the Hobbit. "But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the Will of Evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, in which case you also were meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought."

There was the sound of clothes shifting against each other as Alex pulled himself up and left his perch. "So you say that there is a reason behind everything?" He asked. "That there is a reason why some things turn out the way they do?"

"In a way, yes", Gandalf agreed.

The man furrowed his brows. "Then I would like to know who decided to fuck up my life like they did." His voice dropped. "I really didn't need that, thank you very much."

He paused, sniffing the air before pointing down one of the hallways. "It's along here", he declared.

"How would you know?" Boromir questioned.

"The air doesn't smell as bad as from the other two", Alex shrugged. "When in doubt, always follow your nose."

* * *

It was around the morning of the fifteenth January when the Fellowship entered a great empty hall. They had spent the night before in a secluded room that had been previously filled with several skeletons. Alex, Aragorn and Boromir had quickly piled the remains into a corner, despite Gimli's protests.

Then they had slept there, and once Alex was certain that nobody was watching, he had snatched up one skeleton and tried to consume it, though more out of curiosity. He wasn't too surprised that it barely had any effect on his hunger, after all, it was decades old. He could have eaten a dry stick really, it would have had the same effect.

He really had to find something to eat soon. Maybe he could slip away and try to figure out where the Goblins that seemed to have massacred the Dwarves before were hidden. He hoped he would find an excuse, like trying to scout some way, but then Aragorn would want somebody to go with him, and that was the opposite of what Alex wanted. He needed to get his prey without somebody of the others around, because there was the slight chance that he might accidentally hurt them.

At the moment, he was walking in the front, since the upcoming area reeked of Goblins and he had the best chances to discover them with his night vision. In fact, with the little light from Gandalf, Alex could see perfectly in the gloom.

He was seriously amazed by the massive columns around them and the whole place seemed to stretch out in every direction, vanishing in the dark where his night vision no longer reached. The whole Hall was about as large as three or four blocks of downtown Manhattan, maybe even larger, and about as high as five-story tall buildings. There were no skeletons where they walked, but Alex could see some lying cluttered against the wall to their left.

' _I wonder why Dwarves build so giant Halls'_ , he thought slightly amused. _'It's like they had to compensate for something.'_

"Let me risk some more light", Gandalf claimed as he lifted his staff, the light coming from it becoming stronger. Alex swore under his breath and shielded his eyes to re-adjust them to slightly brighter conditions, though he still heard the collective gasps of the Fellowship as they laid eyes on the overwhelming construction around them.

"Behold", Gandalf explained, "The great Realm and Dwarf City of Dwarrodelf."

The Fellowship continued walking through the Great Hall, gasping in awe. Alex was stalking in the front, glancing around for anything alive and valid enough of a threat to be eaten.

It wasn't entirely necessary at the moment, but he figured that it would be best to replenish his Biomass in case the Lady Galadriel would put him back to Manhattan right into a Blackwatch Base.

Also, it wouldn't hurt that the Elves won't look as appetizing through hunger as he remembered Arwen looked, back at the river.

Alex had gotten his hopes up when the sea creature attacked. He had fully intended to send the Fellowship ahead and catch up with them later after he would have finished making the squid-thing his meal.

Just that the Fellowship had stayed behind and that the monster didn't think about letting itself getting eaten. It had fought back and got its stupid ass buried by the cave-in. All Alex got was one measly tentacle. The Tentacle was still alive and it was easily enough Biomass for two or three guys, but it was still like he promised himself a triple chocolate cake and settled for a fun-sized Snickers.

But he wasn't desperate enough to consume the Fellowship or any random Elves they'd hopefully meet in the future.

He paused, when he heard Gimli's heart rate suddenly spike. He turned with a frown, glancing at the Dwarf, realizing that something wasn't right with him. Gimli had gone very silent as he stared at the wall. No, he was actually staring at a room that was illuminated by a shaft of light.

With an outcry, he suddenly dashed towards the room, dodging the remains of Orcs and Dwarves alike as he ran towards the light shaft.

"Gimli!" Gandalf called out after him, and the Fellowship hurried to follow him. The room he headed into was rather large, with several ledges, platforms and columns against the walls. There were several dozens of skeletons strewn about, there were broken stones on the ground and there were also quite a lot of broken weapons and twisted armours. A single shaft of light that came from the outside of the mountain was illuminating a white slab in the middle of the room.

"No!" Gimli whimpered as he ran towards the stone slab. "No, no!"

Alex furrowed his brows, realizing that the thing was, in fact, a _tomb_. Judging from Gimli's reaction, it belonged to someone he knew.

Boromir glanced down at the grave, putting a comforting hand on the Dwarf's shoulder as Gimli continued to wail.

Gandalf eyed the text engraved on the slab. "'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria'." He paused with his brows lowered over his eyes. "He is dead then. It's as I feared."

Alex glanced around. This place definitely had seen some heat. Dwarf skeletons and weapons were strewn about. Everywhere was paper and there were arrows sticking from every body. But the carnage had been decades ago, at least. He wondered why nobody bothered checking up on the people inside Moria.

Gandalf took off his hat and put his staff aside, handing both to Pippin when he noticed a skeleton sitting half upright next to the grave, holding a large shredded book. He picked it up carefully and placed it above the tomb to read.

"We must move on", Legolas reminded them, "We cannot linger."

"Let me first take a look at this", Gandalf gave back, "See whether we can figure out what happened."

Alex agreed with the Elf, though he was also interested in what was written inside the book. He had the feeling that it was some sort of log book, a diary perhaps.

Gandalf opened the book, furrowing his brows. "It's damaged and parts are unreadable", he explained, "But I will try my best. _We drove out the orcs from the Great Gate and guardroom and took the First Hall. We slew many in the bright sun in the dale._ " He read out loud. " _Flói was killed by an arrow. He slew the great chieftain... we buried…Flói under grass near Mirrormere…came…ken we repaired…We have taken the Twenty-first Hall of North End to dwell in. There is good air…that can easily be watched…the shaft is clear…Balin has set up his seat in the Chamber of Mazarbul…gathered…gold…wonderful lay Durin's Axe...and…silver helm. Balin has taken them for his own. Balin is now lord of Moria:…today we found truesilver…well-forged helm…made all of purest Mithril…Óin to seek for the upper armouries of the Third Deep…go westwards to s…to Hollin Gate._ "

Alex frowned a bit. It sounded as if the Dwarves made good progress, having captured the room they were in and take control of large parts of Moria, with only one casualty. Didn't sound too bad. But of course, he knew how fast something like that could change.

Gandalf turned the side, mumbling that several pages were missing or were too badly damaged. The last two pages were readable, though. The Wizard eyed the text before he continued. " _…years since…ready sorrow…yesterday being the tenth of November Balin, lord of Moria, fell in Dimrill Dale. He went alone to look in Mirrormere. An Orc shot him from behind a stone. We slew the Orc, but many more came…up from east up the Silverlode…we rescued Balin's body... after a sharp battle…we have barred the gates but doubt if…we can hold them long. If there is…no escape it will be a horrible fate to suffer, but I shall hold."_

Alex heard the Fellowship shuffle nervously, though Gimli kept on whimpering upon hearing the fate of his cousin.

" _We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the bridge and Second Hall."_ Gandalf read with a deep frown. _"Frár and Lóni and Náli fell there bravely while the rest retreated to the Chamber of…Mazarbul. We are still ho-ing...but hope …Óin's party went five days ago but today only four returned. The pool is up to the wall at West-gate. The Watcher in the Water took Óin- we cannot get out_." His voice dropped as he eyed the handwriting turn more and more uneven. " _The end comes soon. We hear drums, drums in the deep._ " The writing became a hasty scribble across the paper, hinting that the writer's time had finally run out." _They are coming_."

 _CLONK_

Alex flinched and whirled into the direction of the sudden noise, just barely restraining himself from growing claws, though he couldn't recognize at first what happened. Gandalf had also whipped around with a start. He quickly noticed what was going on and was currently staring at Pippin who in his curiosity had touched a Dwarf Skeleton that sat on the edge of a well. The Hobbit's influence had caused the skull to fall off and tumble down the well.

"Uh" Alex began to say as he noticed the skeleton tilt back dangerously. Before he could do something, it tumbled down the well, dragging a chain and a bucket along for the ride and loudly announced their presence to all of Moria.

 _CLANG_

 _CLANG_

 _CRACK_

The sounds of it hitting the walls and the ground echoed loudly through the Halls of Moria, making Pippin wince at each _clunk_ it made.

With this, their cover was pretty much blown.

The Fellowship glanced around awkwardly as the noise fell silent. After a long pause, Boromir exhaled shakily and Gandalf slammed the book shut "Fool of a Took!" He seethed, "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

He angrily grabbed his hat and staff from the Hobbit, turned and stalked away while leaving Pippin standing there looking like a kicked puppy.

 _Boom_

Alex arched his brow as the Wizard stopped and slowly turned around.

 _Boom_

 _Boom_

Drums in the Deep.

' _This is gonna be fun'_ , Alex thought as his hand slid to the hilt of his Elvish Sword.

The drumming quickly became louder and was soon joined by the screeching of Moria Orcs and Goblins.

The Fellowship glanced around uncertainly and Sam's gaze went down to the Sword hanging from Frodo's belt. "Frodo", he whispered and the Ring-Bearer drew his sword Sting, showing the blue glowing blade. They were coming.

"Orcs", Legolas exclaimed. Boromir immediately ran towards the door and peeked outside, just barely missed by two arrows that suddenly thunked into the wood next to his head.

"Get back!" Aragorn shouted at the Hobbits, dropping his torch, "You stay close to Gandalf!" He ran towards Boromir who was already slamming the door shut to help him. Boromir leaned against it in exasperation. "They have a Cave Troll."

Legolas grabbed two Dwarven War Axes and threw them over to the two to barricade the door, before all of them pulled back to stand in front of the tomb, glaring at the door.

Alex merely watched them with interest, even as he took his position and pulled _Morn-Galad_ from its sheath. The Fellowship also drew their weapons, even the Hobbits who were crowded together in the background. Aragorn and Legolas both aimed their bows at the violently shaking door, while Boromir and Alex stood at their sides with their swords ready.

Orcs were screeching from the other side, trying to break through.

' _This is going to be really interesting'_ , Alex thought with a smirk. He hasn't seen his companions battle until now.

The thought of battle made his insides churn in anticipation and he could literally _feel_ his cells produce more of the Virus, ready to infect and consume.

"Let them come!" Gimli demanded, standing in a wide stance atop Balin's grave and holding his axe ready, "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

Axes smashed through the wooden door. Legolas narrowed his eyes, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The Elf would have been a perfect Blackwatch Sniper, being able to stay as calm and collected as he did even in the face of impending doom.  
In the very moment when the Goblins managed to break a hole into the door was the moment Legolas shot- and hit one of them. Aragorn shot too and the creature dropped back.

Then the Orcs broke through the door and stormed the room. Legolas picked off two and Aragorn another one, but that didn't stop the horde. Alex' lips twitched up into a grin. More were coming. Good.

In the very second that the Orcs reached them the battle was in full swing. Aragorn and Legolas both ducked first. The Elf effortlessly managed to kick his opponents over and get some distance between them so he could continue shooting, while the Ranger drew his sword and took off one Orc's head. Boromir was hacking and slicing left and right, slamming his shield into the attacking enemies. Gimli bludgeoned a few into submission, yelling Dwarvish curses at the creatures. Gandalf swung sword and staff like a master, being able to hold off way more foes than a man in his age should be. The Hobbits, though more likely to try to hide, were holding their own and effectively managed to evade the enemies and still stab some of them into the guts with a battle cry.  
Alex whirled around and slammed the sharp side of his sword into the general direction of the Orcs, decapitating three of them in one blow.

It was a good thing that Elrond had chosen to give him a rather heavy sword that wouldn't break so easily.

Black blood began to fly in every direction. Orcs and Goblins screeched all around them. The sounds of weapons clanging together caused a hellish noise.

Alex loved every moment of it. His insides were twisting faster at the feeling of glorious bloodshed around him. It was almost like being back in Manhattan when he would storm a Hive and just tear the ever-loving shit out of everything that he encountered. An Orc tried to attack him, but the Virus easily leaned back and snatched his hand out, seizing the creature on its throat and squeezed, popping off its head like it was nothing. Blood covered his hand and was quickly absorbed into his Biomass.

It was not enough.

Alex shifted his body slightly, keeping a wary eye on the Fellowship and quickly had a few tendrils snake across the floor to latch onto the closest Orc cadavers to absorb them. His companions didn't notice this, being too busy with slaying Orcs. They kept good scores too, despite being vastly outnumbered.

The Prototype saw Sam suddenly freeze in front of the tomb, staring up. One Orc was yanking on a chain and a giant beast suddenly smashed its way into the room, where it stopped and roared at the Fellowship.

Alex arched his eyebrows. That thing was about as large as a Leader Hunter, but much, much heavier set. The memories of his previous victims quickly identified it as a Cave Troll. Big, dumb, and really, really strong.

Legolas wasted no time shooting an arrow into its chest, with the effect that the Troll roared out and tried to smash the next thing close to it with a giant club.

Which was, incidentally, Sam.

Sam yelled out and ran towards the Troll, diving through between its legs. The beast made a surprised noise, but quickly turned around and tried to stomp on the Hobbit.

But Alex wouldn't have any of that. He quickly seized the chain that was attached to its neck and tugged, easily dragging the giant beast back and away from Sam.

The Troll roared angrily and spun around, swinging its club around, hitting the hooded man with full force. He made a disgruntled noise as he found that he still had to obey Newton's laws and was flung to the side, hitting the ledge there with so much force, he caused a massive crater and squashed about four Orcs to a fine paste.

Alex blinked, then set his face into a nasty scowl.

He was through with playing Mister Nice Guy.

His eyes flashed crimson, and his vision was dyed in oranges and blues, indicating exactly what was warm and alive enough to eat. He growled and sheathed the sword as he got up, glaring at the largest warm spot. The Troll roared and tried to clobber the smaller spot in front of it.

Alex' arm shivered, changing into the Blade as he crouched low. He snarled once before he kicked off the ground, shattering the stone beneath his feet and catapulting his frame towards the Troll. He hit the beast, sinking the Blade deep into its shoulder and also making it stagger back, howling in pain.

Blood sprayed and Alex allowed himself to laugh wildly, jerking his Blade free and jumping back to the floor.

The Troll roared in pain and rage and swung its club down towards him, though the Prototype didn't bother dodging. He snapped his fist up, shattering the club and dislocating the beast's other shoulder with a single punch.

The beast howled in pain, swaying back, but Alex wouldn't let it. He seized the chain and tugged again, bringing the Troll down towards him.

It roared, trying to keep its balance, but with both its arms immobilized through the extensive damage caused by the Prototype, it couldn't catch itself.

Alex did that for it. With the Blade.

Straight through its skull.

The Troll made an inarticulate gargling noise as the viral weapon of biological metal was skewered into its face, right through its brain and out on the other side. It was dead before it even registered that it didn't fall any further as the Blacklight Carrier simply held its body aloft with his Blade.

' _Breakfast is served'_

Alex grinned madly and thrust his feeding tendrils into the carcass, infecting it and changing the Troll into Blacklight Biomass which he hungrily slurped up.

With its brain damaged, the memories were even crappier than a normal Orcs' memories, as they flitted through Alex' brain like a tornado of shattered pictures and animalistic urges.

But the Prototype only cared for one urge: his own hunger. He hummed in satisfaction when the Troll was completely absorbed into his frame, leaving only a bloodstain on the floor.

Without pausing, he immediately lunged at the nearest group of Orcs and swung his Blade in a half circle, slicing through armour and flesh with no effort at all. He felt blood splatter against his body, saw the warmth leeching out of their carcasses. He wasted no time to grab these corpses as well and add them to his own flesh. More was always better.

He grinned, turning to decide what to maim next, when he suddenly realized how...silent the room was. His infrared vision bled away, making him realize that the battle had greatly subsided with the Orcs now fleeing from him in sheer terror.

And suddenly, his eyes found Aragorn's, who stared at him in utter shock.

 _Oh._

"Fuck"


	9. Escaping Moria

Author: **EDIT: Original uploaded on 19th February 2016, new Version 12th May 2016. My Uploads become fewer and less frequent. I blame Fallout: New Vegas and The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim for that.**

* * *

Escaping Moria

Aragorn waited with bated breath for the Orcs to break through the flimsy barrier he and Boromir had erected in all haste. It wouldn't help pointing fingers at whoever was responsible for giving away their position. They now had a situation and had to get through it.

He was aware that it was possible to survive an Orc attack with minimal troubles. Orcs, though overwhelming in numbers, were not known for being particularly gifted in combat. Aragorn knew that his companions could all hold their own in a battle and that all of them would rather lose an arm than let the Hobbits be harmed in any way. But Boromir had seen a Cave Troll and that made the situation much more dangerous.

The Ranger was putting his hopes in Legolas to deal with the Troll. If there was one of them who could battle a beast as powerful as a Cave Troll, it was the Elf.

Aragorn glared at the violently shaking door, bow ready to shoot down anything that came through there.

There was a shriek of splintering wood when the horde managed to break a hole into the door. Legolas wasted no time shooting the Orc on the other side through the barely fist-sized hole. The creature gave a shriek of pain, and Aragorn shot next, hitting it dead-on and dropping it back.

The door was shattered with a loud crack and the Orcs flooded into the room. The Ranger wasted no time to shoot down one of them while Legolas managed to pick off two more before the scourge was upon them. Aragorn dodged and quickly put away his bow in favour for drawing his sword, decapitating one Orc within the blink of an eye.

He chanced a glance to his other companions, seeing that all of them were busy slaying Orcs. At least they weren't busy dieing, and that was a little relief for the Ranger.

Boromir was whacking his shield into the Orcs, stunning them before finishing them off with his sword. Gimli hadn't moved from his position atop Balin's Grave, which gave him the advantage to slam his axe into the less protected skulls of his enemies. The Ranger also saw a blur move past him, followed by the distinct _twang_ of a bowstring. Legolas was easily moving through the skirmish and still managed to pick off the Orcs. Aragorn heard a group of battle cries, realizing that the Hobbits jumped right into the brawl too. They were shorter than the Orcs even and fast enough to avoid their blows.

Next to him he heard the sound of a blade slicing through flesh. He turned slightly to see Alex looping off several Orc heads with one savage blow. _'At least one of us has fun'_ , Aragorn thought. A second later his thoughts stopped to a screeching standstill. ' _Wait...fun?!'_

He risked another glance at the man and had to realize that he was, in fact, smiling.

It wasn't a very nice smile, actually it would have send men cowering should it ever be directed at them, but it still was a genuine smile.

And more even, the hooded man had somewhat stopped in mid-battle, having closed his eyes most of the way and was actually _humming_ in satisfaction. Still, he was acutely aware of his surroundings as he effortlessly dodged an assault on his person and seized the attacking Orc.

Aragorn felt he was going to be sick when he witnessed his companion just _squeezing_ the Orc's head right off its shoulders in a spray of blood with a wide, unhinged grin on his face.

But then the Ranger had to dive to the side to avoid another Orc. He dodged around them, keeping them in his line of vision while also dropping several of them. He was aware that the Fellowship was doing their best and none of them were currently in trouble. He paused, frowning at the sound of something like dry grass brushing against something nearby. It was entirely out of place, but he couldn't entirely pinpoint its origins, since it was drowned out quickly by the noise of battle.

And the noise of a loud howl nearby. Aragorn stopped, witnessing in shock how the Cave Troll barged into the Chamber of Mazarbul, roaring out at them.

The Ranger felt his heart stop as the giant beast moved towards them, club ready to smash them into the ground.  
Legolas reacted first, shooting an arrow right into its chest. The Troll flinched back, staring at the projectile embedded into its pectorals for a moment, before howling and smashing his club downwards, right into Sam's direction.

The Hobbit screamed a half-panic, half-battle-cry and dove towards the beast, slipping through between its legs. The Troll, though first confused, quickly turned and started to go after the Hobbit with a grunt.

"Boromir!" Aragorn shouted, "The chain!" The two Men were already darting towards the fetter the beast still had around its neck, but they stopped when they saw Alex already on it. The man, who had a few days before nearly effortlessly dragged the water creature out of the lake, had seized the chain and only tugged lightly, forcing the Troll to step back to avoid falling.

But then the beast spun around, swinging its club sideways into their hooded companion. Aragorn winced at the sound of something that was probably bones shatter when his friend was hit with full force, sending him actually flying against the wall with a grunt and the loud crack of stone. Somehow, the Ranger doubted that he would stay down for long, though he couldn't help but worry for him.

However, at the moment he found there were more pressing matters. The chamber was still filled with Orcs and even though the Fellowship was trying to keep them back, their numbers only barely dwindled. Luckily, there didn't come any more inside at the moment.

Aragorn spun around, dodging the Troll that was currently stomping towards him with a roar. They had to figure out how to deal with the creature before they could think about escaping Moria.

He heard Gimli shout and witnessed his smaller axe soaring through the air, digging deep into the Troll's chest. The beast grunted and turned its attention towards the Dwarf, smashing its club down. Gimli barely managed to jump to the side, though Balin's Tomb was completely obliterated, turned to dust and rubble with a single blow. The Dwarf grunted, climbing back to his feet while the Troll hauled its arm back for another attack. Aragorn swore, he and Boromir were currently pinned down by a few Orcs and were thus not able to help, but then there was the distinct sound of stone shatter. A black blur suddenly hit the Troll with so much force, the beast stumbled back in a feeble effort to keep its balance while howling in pain. Aragorn just dispatched the last Orc that battled him and whirled around to face the Troll and whatever had hit it.

He found Alex clinging to the beast, one hand curled against the collar of the creature while the other was buried up to the shoulder in the Troll's shoulder. But then he realized that _Morn-Galad_ was still on his hips, meaning he was using _his bare fists_ to battle the Troll. The hooded man suddenly laughed out and Aragorn froze for a second. The sound was anything but happy, it was a demented laughter that was about as foreboding as a Nazgûl's screech.

Alex jerked back, tearing his arm free of the Troll's flesh and jumped back-

Aragorn's eyes widened in horror and his heart hammered against his ribcage as his focus was drawn to the man's right arm.

Or where his right arm was supposed to be.

A giant _Blade_ , easily the size of its wielder, had sprung up from the hooded man's shoulder. It was a twisted, demonic parody of a sword with a large blade to the front and a smaller where the elbow was supposed to be, tethered to his body not by bones and flesh, but rather black veins and spiked bands. There was no indication where it began, since it grew directly from his clothes.

 _I already am a Wraith_

The Troll had recovered slightly, and was now trying to smash its club into the Wraith in front of it, though Alex didn't bother with dodging. Instead, he brought his fist up and effortlessly snapped the club with a single punch, while also dislocating the Troll's shoulder. The beast swayed back in pain, bellowing, but Alex wouldn't let it. He yanked on the chain once more, bringing the beast down towards him. The Troll couldn't keep its balance and rushed to the floor to meet him, but the hooded man had already brought his bladed arm up and impaled the beast straight through the skull, killing it with one violent blow.

The Troll was still twitching as its upper body was held aloft by the Wraith in the shape of a man. Aragorn took a step back, staring in terror at the massive tentacles that suddenly rose from his companion's flesh.

They reminded him of the Water Creature's arms, though they were smaller.  
And they weren't for grabbing either, but rather for impaling. Aragorn swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise into his throat as the red-streaked black tentacles jabbed into the Troll's carcass. Suddenly there was the sound of dry grass again as more tendrils, veins and serpents sprang up from the beast's body, ensnaring the entire carcass rapidly. Aragorn could hear the sound of flesh tearing, bones snapping and wet slurps as the Troll's cadaver was torn apart and...melted away.

The Ranger saw the look of satisfaction on Alex' face when his own shape was rapidly covered with the same red tendrils before they settled down, leaving him standing alone near a blood stain on the floor.

But he wasn't finished yet. Without wasting any more time, he lunged towards a group of Orcs in the back and dismembered them with the giant blade, then proceeded to ensnare their corpses just like the Troll's body and make them vanish too.

He wasn't making them disappear, though, Aragorn realized with a twist in his stomach. He was _devouring_ them.

By now, most of the Orcs inside the chamber had been killed or- in face of the latest developments- had fled in sheer terror. Alex himself wasn't bothered by this. He stood up straight and turned with a predatory smirk towards his direction. Aragorn felt naked panic run over his back and settle in his stomach like an icy knot.

However, in the very moment their eyes met, he saw the madness bleed away rapidly from Alex' face and a series of rather humorous expressions took their place. He stared at the Ranger for several seconds with a surprised stare before he settled for a single "Fuck".

* * *

Time seemed to come to a standstill as the two stared at each other, each of them with an equally shocked expression. Alex' eyes were blown wide. Aragorn was sure his own too, but then again, it doesn't happen often that one of your companions reveals to possess the ability to grow giant swords instead of an arm and _devour_ entire Trolls within seconds.

The remaining Fellowship was, understandably, quite unnerved and Aragorn could see Legolas target the Wraith, while Boromir and Gimli grabbed their weapons harder.

However, Alex didn't show any signs of aggression or trying to defend himself, instead he draped his palm over his face and groaned. "Oh fuck. Nice work, Mercer." He scowled, turning away from the Fellowship and stalking through the Chamber of Mazarbul. "Great _fucking_ job, genius", he growled under his breath.

Aragorn frowned as he watched the man mutter angry curses under his breath, as if trying to figure out what to do next, though the Fellowship didn't leave him out of their eyes.

Suddenly, Alex stopped, eyes narrowing on his companions. Aragorn swallowed when he saw red and black veins rush frenzied across the man's body, concentrating at the giant blade he had instead of an arm. Within the blink of an eye, the giant weapon melted away and changed into a smaller shape. It resembled a human arm now more, albeit it was now notably made of twisted black veins and spike bands of red mass. Four gleaming claws sat on its tip. The Wraith growled and pulled this talon back, then jerked his shoulder to the front, shooting the claw like a whip across several feet distance, right towards...the Hobbits?

At the same moment, Legolas made a startled outcry and released the arrow, hitting Alex dead-on in the face, though the Wraith wasn't bothered by it. Aragorn whirled, trying a feeble attempt to protect the Halflings when the talon connected with the sound of flesh tearing. The Hobbits screamed and dodged to the side when black blood sprayed. Aragorn paused in surprise.  
Five Orcs had hidden behind the columns and had tried to sneak up on the Hobbits, using the Fellowship's distraction to strike.

And Alex had noticed them.

With a single flick of his monstrous claw, he had sliced through the creatures and cut them in half at their hips before anybody had been able to react.

Aragorn realized that if he had wanted to kill them, then he would have done so.

"We need to go", Alex hissed. His talon shivered and changed back into a normal human hand. "We have to get out. There are more Orcs coming."

"Oh no!" Boromir snapped, stepping to the front with his sword pointed at the Wraith, "I can not risk the lives of the Fellowship by allowing something like you amongst them! I want answers. Now!"

"There is no time!" Alex sneered, "There are more Orcs coming! We need to get out of here before you guys end up just like Balin's troops!"

He didn't say _we_ , Aragorn noticed. He said _you_. And, as he pulled Legolas' arrow out that was firmly lodged into his left eyeball, the Ranger realized that anything the enemy was able to do was utterly useless against the Wraith. The wound in his face was already closing up, and a second later he looked as if nothing happened.

"Listen", Alex tried to argue, "I know you don't trust me. Hell, after the stunt I pulled, I don't expect you to. But we need to leave this place as soon as possible, or else we are gonna be neck-deep in Orcs!"

Aragorn saw Frodo shuffle his feet, glancing back at the carnage that used to be Orcs trying to ambush him and his cousins, then back towards Alex. He swallowed.

"He's right", the Hobbit said with a weak voice, "We cannot stay here."

Boromir and Gimli both tried to argue, but Gandalf cut them off with a curt nod. "We have to leave", he declared. In the distance, they heard more Orcs shriek. "To the Bridge of Khazad-Dûm!" The Wizard ordered. The Fellowship immediately began moving, though they did keep their distance from the Wraith.

They darted out of the Chamber of Mazarbul, heading for the Great Hall. However, mere moments after they left the tomb, thousands of Orcs were already chasing after them. Many of them dashed towards them from the darkness of the Hall, while even more began climbing down the columns like giant spiders. Hundreds of them were following the companions, while the rest started to group together in the front, cutting them off.

As the Fellowship reached the middle of the Great Hall, the Orcs had them surrounded. The companions whirled around, standing back to back and grabbed their weapons harder to try to fend them off. At the moment, the Orcs didn't attack them, but they did slowly move closer, swallowing up any distance between them.

Aragorn grit his teeth, counting the free space between them. They had mostly three to four feet left, and the Orcs were screeching at them.

A low rumbling sound made a few of them halt, and the Ranger found their hooded companion baring his teeth at the creatures, growling angrily at them.

"Any ideas?" Gimli asked, holding his axe in front. "Keep hitting until either of us is dead?"

"There are too many", Boromir snarled, "We won't survive this."

"I have an idea", Alex hissed. "Don't move and stay close to me."

He didn't give them any chance to reply when more black and red tendrils ran across his body. It seemed like they began to concentrate around his arms, though the man didn't change shape. Instead, he slammed both fists into the ground, cratering it and making the Fellowship lose their focus and stumble. The Orcs screeched, moving to take them over. Aragorn swore, trying to regain his balance.

The ground shattered.

Giant black spikes, each of them between fifteen and thirty feet in size, sprang from the stone, impaling every single Orc in a circle of a several yards around them and reducing them to nothing more than blood, organs and remains of armour.

The Fellowship was staring in horror as the spikes raced outwards, utterly eradicating every single creature close enough to be seen in the light of Gandalf's Staff. The massive black constructs remained for a moment before retreating into the floor, leaving the ground shattered and splattered with blood. Mercer hissed and straightened his back, pulling his fists out of the floor. "Okay", the Wraith snarled ferociously, stepping to the front and shifting his arms so they resembled the claws of a mighty beast. Each steel-like nail was easily as long as a short sword. "Who wants some more of that?"

For the first time since they attacked, the Orcs were unsure of how to proceed, watching the holes in the floor uncertainly from the shadows they hid in. They weren't reckless anymore, shrieking and chattering amongst themselves as if trying to figure out what to do next. They certainly didn't expect that their victims would be able to fight back.

But then again, Aragorn didn't expect their companion to be able to violently murder so many Orcs in one blow either.

"C'mon", Alex roared, making the air and the ground shake from the sheer fury in his voice, "There's a lot more where that came from!" He fanned his claws out, scraping them against each other with the uncanny shriek of metal against metal. "Who wants to go next?!"

The Orcs whimpered, but where still not quite willing to leave the Fellowship alone, since they still had their overwhelming numbers.

Suddenly a deep rumbling snarl answered the Wraith's question. The shine of fire began to illuminate the Halls farthest away from them and the Orcs looked around uncertainly, their shrieks reaching a new level of frenzy.

Something stomped the ground and snarled another time and the creatures of Moria screeched in panic, scrambling away to climb the pillars once more and escape the Great Hall.

Alex frowned, slowly stepping backwards while staring at the fiery shine that slowly came closer.

"This was...highly efficient", Gimli gasped, staring at the giant claws of their companion. "How did you do that?"

"That wasn't me", Alex gave back. A flurry of black and red not-flesh ran over his body and whipped out of his shoulders, though the claws remained. "That was something else entirely."

The ground rumbled again and something drew closer.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked, staring at the orange glow. Gandalf fell silent, closing his eyes in exhaustion. Aragorn felt the hair at the back of his neck stand up in alarm. Something was coming, and that was way more dangerous than the mentally unstable Wraith they called their companion.

The rumble was heard again as the Wizard opened his eyes again. "A Balrog", he declared in defeat, "A demon of the ancient world." Legolas paled noticeably. "This foe is beyond _any_ of you" Gandalf suddenly spun around, fear evident on his face. "RUN!"

The Fellowship jumped at the panic in his voice, so they quickly turned and started running after the Wizard, while the Balrog snarled once more as it followed their trail.  
Alex had stopped though and was literally roaring into the demon's direction, but Aragorn grabbed his wrist and yanked, ignoring the stinging pain that came from his skin breaking against the spiked flesh. "Come!" He yelled, "You cannot fight it!"

Alex glared at Aragorn, but quickly dismissed the claws and followed after them.

Together, the Fellowship ran without looking back.

* * *

Boromir was the first one to bowl through a doorway, racing down a set of stairs while throwing glances over his shoulder. He realized too late that the stairway in front of him had ended suddenly though. As he teetered on the edge with a startled yell, Legolas arrived to grab him, pulling him back to safety against the upper part of the stairs. The Hobbits stopped, staring at the ravine below. Aragorn tried to catch his breath from the panicked escape when Gandalf pressed his hand on his shoulder. "Lead them on, Aragorn", he told him breathlessly, "The Bridge is near!"

The Ranger turned, staring at the stone arch further down the ravine. The Balrog roared again, drawing the attention of their hooded companion. Aragorn and Alex both were about to run back and try to stop it, but Gandalf threw his arm out. "Do as I say!" He shouted, "Swords and Claws are of no more use here!"

The Fellowship scrambled to the right, climbing down the rickety looking staircase that hasn't collapsed yet. Or at least not entirely. Legolas was running to the front, leaping across a small gap in the staircase.

The Balrog roared again, and the construction splintered and broke even further, widening the hole in the ground.

"Gandalf!" Legolas yelled, spinning around on his still stable side of the gap. The old Wizard didn't falter as he jumped over next with the Elf quickly grabbing him once he reached the other side. Gandalf hurried further down the stairs and Legolas turned back around, ready for the next one.

Boromir had already seized Merry and Pippin under one arm each and quickly jumped over as well, though the stair continued to crumble. All of them knew that they didn't have so much time left. Once the Gondorian had set down the Hobbits, Aragorn grabbed Sam and flung him over for Boromir to catch him. The Ranger was about to grab Gimli next, but the Dwarf denied.

"Nobody tosses a Dwarf", he scoffed and went on to jump over the gap himself, but he seriously misjudged the distance. He nearly fell back into the abyss had Legolas not quickly grabbed him on his beard ("NOT THE BEARD!") and dragged him to safer grounds.

The Balrog roared, causing massive boulders to fall from the ceiling. Legolas and Boromir had to dive out of the way, and Aragorn and Frodo had to scramble back up the stairs to avoid them.

"Aragorn!" Boromir shouted, "You can't jump the distance!"

"We have to try!" Aragorn yelled back, trying to determine the distance.

"You won't", Alex' voice cut in. "You'll only fall to your doom." The demon roared again and the stairs shook. The Wraith suddenly lurched to the front, seizing both Aragorn and Frodo and dragged them further upwards, while the stairs beneath them continued to crumble away and fall into the abyss.

"What now?!" Frodo shouted, "We can't go this way!"

"I know" Aragorn gave back. He watched the Fellowship stand on the other side of the gap, eyeing them helplessly.

"I can help you", Alex spoke up, "I can get you to them, but..." He glanced at the staircase, raising his voice. "Gandalf! Get the others off there! This part is going to collapse soon!"

"What about-?!"

"Don't worry! Just get off that thing! Now!"

The Fellowship swallowed hard and continued running downwards. Aragorn watched them for a moment, realizing that the stairs made a series of sharp turns to lead into a doorway further down against the cliff side they were at.

"Hold on, Aragorn", Alex growled, gesturing to his back. Aragorn blinked, not understanding.

Above them, the Balrog roared again, causing more of the stairs to collapse. "Trust me", the Wraith urged. "I know what I'm doing. Just hold onto me, damnit!"

Aragorn furrowed his brows, still not understanding when Alex finally set his face in an unhappy scowl. He simply seized the Ranger, throwing him over his bony shoulder and went on to grab Frodo next.

"Alex?! What are you doing-?!" Aragorn felt all air knocked from his lungs when the Wraith suddenly kicked off the floor, shattering the staircase further beneath his feet. He heard Frodo utter a startled shriek, noticed how his companions gasped in shock and felt the air whip past him.

A second later he felt a jarring impact against the wall, hearing metal shriek against solid rock for several long moments before they hit the ledge with quite some force.

Alex put both of them down, leaving them to stand on badly shaking legs.

"There", he commented as if it was nothing. Aragorn noticed with a start the deep groves in the cliff where the Wraith's claws had dug in to slow down.

"What manner of creature are you?!" the Ranger wanted to know.

Alex glared at him for a second. "I'll explain later", he replied, "But first we have to get out of here." As if on cue, the Balrog roared again, causing the remains of the stair to collapse. The Fellowship whirled around, watching how parts of the ledge began to crumble dangerously.

"Quick!" Gandalf called out, "The bridge is near!"

The group picked up their speed once more, continuing to run.

At the moment, they didn't face any opposition, and Aragorn was actually glad about this, but he could still hear the Orc shriek somewhere in the vast emptiness of Moria, even over the roaring of the Balrog that was still chasing them.

The Fellowship was panting harshly when they entered another great hallway that was seemingly connected to the Great Hall. Everything was on fire and the ominous rumbling came closer. But it was the only way, as further down a few set of stairs was the narrow Bridge of Khazad-Dûm.

"Over the bridge!" Gandalf ordered as he stopped to wave his sword into the mentioned direction, "Fly!"

The group was dashing past him, with Gandalf keeping watch. Suddenly there was a loud roar, much closer than they'd liked. Alex swore and skidded to a halt, whirling around to watch the Wizard. Aragorn stopped too and ran back for him. "Run!" He shouted. "We have to leave!"

"Not without the old man!" Mercer gave back, already sprinting back for Gandalf.

The wall of fire that cut off their path back to the Great Hall surged higher when the demon let out another roar.

Aragorn noticed that Alex suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, and wisps of black and red ran over his body akin to a cat's fur when the animal was scared. The Wraith was staring at the fire, grinding his teeth together.

And Aragorn turned to look too, only to see the flames and shadows whirl around when the Balrog finally revealed itself by leaping through the fire, landing in front of Gandalf with a massive _thud_.

The Ranger stepped back involuntarily, staring at the beast. It was giant, much larger than the Troll was, even with its hunched over posture. Its all too human-like skull was adorned with giant teeth and massive horns. Its long tail whipped through the air behind it and its wings were spread out wide. Most of its body was shrouded with fire and smoke, hiding its dark scaly skin from view.

Aragorn could hear Alex hiss, noting how he took a step back. His entire body was constantly being washed over with red veins and black tendrils, showing his anxiety.

The Demon roared at them with a sound like hot air rushing from a vent in a volcano and Gandalf now finally turned and abandoned the battle, running back to where the Fellowship was. The companions, who had stopped momentarily to watch the demon in horror, had turned back and continued running towards the bridge. There was a black blur when Alex darted to the front and stopped just in front of the bridge to spin back around. His eyes were glowing crimson and his entire body shivered violently with countless red and black tendrils as it warped and changed.

The Wraith crouched low as thick, insect-like armour grew from his body, covering every inch of it without leaving even a single spot unprotected. Aragorn heard Frodo gasp startled.

"I'll be right behind you", Alex reassured the Ranger with a heavily warped voice. Aragorn could only stare at the featureless faceplate, as this shell didn't have any openings for the eyes or mouth. "I just try to stop Satan over there, and buy you more time."

"You can't hope to win!" Gandalf shouted in realization. "Alex!"

"I don't try to win", Alex growled, taking a thundering step to the front and shifting his arms, one into the giant blade he had before, the other into a massive shield. "I am going to slow it down!"

Without waiting for any reaction longer, their companion charged towards the Balrog that came closer. The ground shattered beneath his armoured feet as he pushed his speed up and targeted the demon's legs. In the last moment, he threw his shield up and slammed with so much force into the Balrog, that the demon roared and lost its balance, tumbling backward towards the ground.

Aragorn and Gandalf both stared in shock as the Wraith flung his shielded arm out in a violent blow, making the demon roar in rage. Alex added his own animalistic howl of pain as the smell of burning flesh met Aragorn, even as he and Gandalf continued running towards the bridge. The Ranger saw how the shield sizzled and burnt away fast where it had made contact with the demon's flames, though the Wraith didn't let go or give up. Alex snarled and slammed the blade down, sinking it into the demon's flesh with quite some force. The Balrog bucked up and roared enraged, but Alex held on. He snarled again and grew those long tendrils Aragorn had seen before, when he devoured the Troll and the Orcs.

' _He's seeking to devour the Balrog!'_ the Ranger thought startled, witnessing the creature with the face of a man thrust the fleshy growths into the demon.

The Balrog roared out and lit up its body, causing massive flames to surge upwards. Alex jerked back, tearing his blade free and stumbled back with his shell blackened and burnt beyond all recognition.

The Balrog struggled into a half-kneeling position, roaring angrily as fire seeped out of the wounds it sustained, though they didn't stop it from seizing the Wraith with one burning talon and try to crush him. Alex snarled in response, even with his armour continuing to crack and burn.

However, the demon soon lost its interest and hurled the man over to the Fellowship. Aragorn swore and ducked low to prevent being hit, so Alex hit the opposite wall in a cacophony of shattering rock and snapping bones. Aragorn was besides him instantly to pull him out of the rubble, fearing that he might be dead by now.

To his immense relief, he heard a pained whine and the hooded man twitched before he tried to struggle upright. Aragorn helped him with that, grunting under the massive weight his friend seemingly had. It didn't help much that his friends' one arm was still a man-sized blade and the other was badly burnt.  
Suddenly there was a retching noise, followed by clattering. The Ranger inhaled sharply when he witnessed how the bladed arm snapped right off Alex' shoulder, falling to the ground and crumbling away to dust and ashes. The Wraith lurched to the front, retching again and losing a part of his chest-and face plates. However, beneath them was no skin or clothes. There was only a constantly shifting mass of black and red veins, crawling across his insides before they whipped outwards, rejecting a large amount of charred flesh.

The Fellowship gasped in shock and terror when the armour shattered off completely, leaving the Wraith's true face clearly for all of them to see. He was nothing more than a constantly writhing mass of red and black with no discernible features. Aragorn swallowed as the feverish hot mass began clinging to him, tendrils rising and vanishing at random intervals as they snaked across his body and coiled against his skin curiously. His heart was hammering madly against his ribcage, even thought the man tried to stay calm. A group of larger tendrils suddenly wrapped tightly around his shoulders and throat, squeezing slightly, but not threatening.

"'S'kay", Alex garbled in a strained voice, seemingly trying to reassure him (he had no face! Where is his face?!) "Jus' give me a m'ment."

Aragorn felt the hot mass against his body squirm and pulse rapidly, emitting an enraged hissing noise.

It was directed at the Balrog that hurt him so much. The demon, now back on its hooves, stood at the edge of the Bridge of Khazad-Dûm. Aragorn gasped as he found Gandalf standing in the middle of the stone construct, facing the Balrog.

"You cannot pass!" The Wizard shouted, grasping his staff hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

Frodo's eyes widened in terror at the sight. "GANDALF!" He shrieked in panic, though he didn't dare to move yet.

The Balrog reared up and flapped its wings, causing the flames that shrouded its body to burn higher. At the same moment, Aragorn felt the mass against his shoulder shudder and suddenly Alex was simply there, hanging from the Ranger's shoulder and panting through the strain it took to pull his body together. His pale blue eyes were unfocused and glassy, but he was staring at the Balrog with poorly hidden rage.

"I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor", Gandalf declared and the Balrog swung its arm, creating a sword made of flames. The Wizard pitched his voice up as he held his staff over his head. "The dark fire will not avail you! Flame of Udûn!"

The Demon swung its sword down, but a white glowing shield caught the blow. Gandalf hissed with the stress it took to keep the shield upright, but the demon's sword ultimately shattered.

Aragorn gasped in sight of the Balrog staggering back in surprise, but it quickly recovered and stepped back to the front to roar at the Wizard.

"Go back to the shadows", Gandalf hissed. The Balrog growled and took a thundering step towards him, setting one hoof on the bridge while creating a giant flaming whip, cracking it against the cliff on its side with a loud snap.

"YOU! SHALL! NOT! PASS!" The Wizard roared, slamming his staff against the ground in a flash of white. The demon flinched back slightly in fear of what might transpire next, but nothing happened.

The Demon snorted and stepped back towards Gandalf, intending to vanquish its foe when the bridge suddenly gave out, collapsing under its weight and tumbling into the endless pit. With no chance to catch itself, the Balrog fell howling into the abyss.

Gandalf was panting heavily as he turned to move back to the Fellowship, when suddenly the fiery whip shot back upwards and ensnared Gandalf's ankle and pulled him off the bridge. The Wizard barely managed to cling onto the remains of the bridge, hanging off it merely by his own strength.

Frodo shot to the front, trying to run back, but was stopped by Boromir, who had to use all his strength to hold the Hobbit. "GANDALF!" He shouted in panic.

The wizard struggled to hold himself on the bridge, but when his eyes met those of Frodo, he only uttered "Fly, you fools!"

He let go.

At the same moment, Aragorn heard a shout and suddenly found himself shoved away as the hooded man had lurched to the front and had thrust his whip-like claw towards Gandalf, trying to catch the Wizard.

The claw missed by mere inches and Gandalf plummeted into smoke and darkness.

Suddenly the air was filled with screeching once more and arrows started raining down all around them, shot by the Orcs and Goblins from the other side. Aragorn didn't notice them, only barely registered Alex swing the whip claw in an arch to deflect the projectiles. He could only stare at the broken end of the bridge where Gandalf fell. Boromir, now holding Frodo in his arms, turned and shouted at the Ranger, even though it barely reached him. "ARAGORN!"

The Man still stood in shocked silence still staring until a shape appeared in front of him, shielding him from the arrows that had chased the others out of the mines already.

"We have to get out!" Alex hissed with a pained voice, "Or else Gandalf's death was in vain! Aragorn!"

That snapped the Ranger out of his stupor and the two of them quickly turned and fled the ravine. Aragorn dodged several arrows that Alex didn't catch when they ran up another flight of stairs and out of the dreaded mines.

The Fellowship ran into the field of the Dimrill Dale for several hundred yards until they could not run any longer. Sam slumped down on a boulder, his face buried in his hands as he wept silently. Gimli was shouting obscenities, trying to break himself free of Boromir's hold and return to the mines. Merry was staring at nothing while holding Pippin, who had completely collapsed against his cousin's side and cried without holding himself back. Legolas just stood there, staring wide-eyed at nothing as he tried to comprehend what had happened. Aragorn stood there wiping down his sword. He paused as his eyes caught the dried blood on his hand were his skin broke. He tried to figure out what to do next. They couldn't stay here. They couldn't rest now. They had to, he knew. But they couldn't.

There was a loud and mournful howl from the side and when Aragorn turned, he saw Alex sitting there hunched over, raking his claws against his skull and ripping into his own flesh, while shrieking in agony.

But the Fellowship could not linger. Aragorn made a decision.

"Legolas", he called out, getting the Elf's attention, "Get them up!"

The Elf complied only slowly, walking over to Merry and Pippin to pull them back to their feet.

"Give them a moment for pity's sake!" Boromir snapped, with a badly cracking voice.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs!" The Ranger gave back, though there was desperation in his tone. "We must reach the woods of Lothlórien." He moved towards them with a sad look on his eyes. "Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli...get them up."

Boromir watched him for a moment before he nodded with a grim expression. He walked over to Sam, pulling him up, whispering "On your feet, Sam."

The Hobbits were shaken by the events, Aragorn knew. He was moving towards Alex, slowing down at the sight of the tendrils snapping from his back and crushing the arrows that were embedded there. "We have to leave", the Ranger said slowly. "We cannot stay here...you do understand this, do you?"

"I couldn't catch him" The Wraith muttered silently, staring at his massive talons. "I couldn't catch Gandalf, Aragorn."

"None of us would have been able to", the Ranger gave back with a crestfallen tone.

"I would have", Alex snapped suddenly. "I _could_ have! I'm stronger than humans, faster, more resilient...But when he needed it, I was incapable of doing _anything_!"

"Alex, this isn't your fault", Aragorn claimed, "The opposite is actually true. You managed to hold off the Balrog, give us more time."

The Wraith only gave a weak snort, but still changed his talons back into human hands and allowed Aragorn to drag him back to his feet.

"Come", the Ranger said. "Come with us to Lothlórien. Only there our will wounds heal."

Alex didn't answer, though his focus had moved away from the Fellowship. He was watching Frodo, who was currently stumbling away from them.

Aragorn furrowed his brows "Frodo?" He called out, stopping him. "Frodo!"

The Hobbit turned to look at his companions and a single tear rolled down his cheek.


	10. Lothlórien

**Author: EDIT: New Chapters updated on 17th May 2016, old one on 22nd February 2016, which is the birthdate of my second nephew, Jason.  
**

 **Also, I read some of the comments, and I have to say, if you don't like my story, then don't read it, damnit!**

* * *

Lothlórien

The Fellowship was moving again, away from the dreaded mines, though they weren't as hasty as they had been at first. They knew that they couldn't run as fast to prevent exhaustion, but they didn't want to take it slow either. Not as long the Orcs were still within the mines.

They had to get to the safety of Lothlórien before night fell.

Aragorn stopped atop a boulder, looking back at the Fellowship. All of them only stared dully at the path in front of them, but their minds were somewhere else entirely. The Ranger knew that they needed time to get their thoughts back in order and digest what happened, but at the moment, they didn't have any time to waste.

He noticed Pippin cry out and stumble to the ground. Merry was already moving to help him back upright, but suddenly froze and backed off in fear when Alex approached the Hobbit.

The Wraith knelt down and pulled Pippin back to his feet, awkwardly dusting him off, but the youngest of them stepped back, eyes wide in fear.

After a strained silence, the creature with the face of a man huffed out, slid back to his feet and shuffled away, hands buried into the pockets of his coat.

Aragorn couldn't help but feel sorry for the man. He was seemingly deeply hurt by their reactions, but then again, he had never even so much as mentioned what he was able to do.

' _But maybe that is exactly what he was afraid of',_ the Ranger thought. His mind jumped back to the moment when Alex had lost his burnt shell, revealing his insides to the Fellowship. It wasn't real _flesh_ in the closer sense of the word. There were no organs, no _bones_ , only a feverishly hot mass of countless worms, veins and tendrils that crawled across each other in frenzied motions.

It had caused the creature a lot of stress to pull himself back into a human shape, but once he did he didn't look all too different from before. He still had the same pale skin, the same blue eyes, the same dark hair. Only his clothes had changed, from a long overcoat with boots and gauntlets to a short dark leather jacket, a grey shirt with hood and a white shirt beneath, with a pair of faded pants and simple shoes, but no boots anymore.  
 _Morn-Galad_ , which had stayed at his side even when he temporarily lost shape, seemed completely out of place on him now, though it was still attached to his belt.

Aragorn furrowed his brows at the sight of red and black whipping out of his shoulders before vanishing again, which, incidentally, was what made the Fellowship scramble away from him.

Alex moved besides him, glancing at the horizon where a green band was plainly visible. "How much longer?" He asked.

"At dusk we will reach safe havens", Aragorn stated, "And then two more days until we reach Caras Galadhon."

"So three more days..." Alex muttered. He turned to watch the Fellowship, especially Frodo who was staring with fear at him. "Just three more days", the Wraith mumbled again. "As soon I met the Lady Galadriel, I'll be out of your hair. I promise."

"Maybe the Fellowship wouldn't be so afraid of you if you had trusted in us more", Aragorn pointed out. "Maybe if you hadn't tried to hide what you are."

"I didn't expect things go this far South", the Wraith replied. "I thought it was just a small trip and I'll be off before I was forced to reveal what I am." He snorted. "A _monster_."

Aragorn was about to answer something, but Alex had already turned and stalked away.

* * *

' _Just three more days, Mercer.'_

' _Nearly five months until I snapped, not bad all things considered. It could have been worse.'_

' _They are a threat. Let's just eat them.'_

' _Shut up'_

Alex scowled. He really wasn't in the mood for sassy comments and stupid orders, especially not from himself. He had enough troubles as it was already.  
His whole body was _hurting_ , even after he had regenerated the damage, and he has lost quite a lot of Biomass when he tackled the Demon, but that was only the physical side. Psychological, it looked different entirely. Had he not had tried to pretend to be a human, then all of this wouldn't have happened at all. Had he reacted just a bit faster, he could have caught Gandalf as he fell. Hell, if he hadn't had the _brilliant_ idea to bodily assault the demon, then he wouldn't be in so much pain.

He should have expected that jumping right into the explosion of a Thermobaric shell is a really bad idea, so why should jumping right at fucking _Satan_ be any different? After all, its flames were fuelled by _magic_ , and thus burned different to normal fire, not hotter, but in any rate _different_. Even his Armour was useless against it, though it had bought him some more time.

' _And here I thought I was supposed to be a genius.'_

' _Shut up'_

' _Trying to eat a thing that is made of fire has been a brilliant move, idiot.'_

' _I noticed.'_

' _Why the hell did I even try to bring down Satan all on my own? People are food, so why do I try to hard to not only not eat them, but also help them? They hate my guts and right about now all that prevents them from stabbing my ass is the fact that they are too tired.'_

' _I promised'_

' _Har-di-har. A promise. Cute.'_

Alex shook his head. He was feeling really tired from arguing with himself.

There was no sense in this internal discussion either. Why did he even bother with trying to figure out what to do now? Blacklight wasn't supposed to figure out a solution, it was just supposed to react.

The easiest and simplest way would be to simply kill these guys here, add them to his own Biomass, continue through Middle Earth and murder any opposition, regardless of alliance, and figure it out from there.

It worked in Manhattan pretty well. And if even _Blackwatch_ had their trouble trying to contain the virus, then Middle Earth was completely at his mercy.

But Alex baulked at that idea. He had no interest in doing exactly that. He didn't want to kill every single living being that dared to rear its head at him.

Alex understood that this was not what Blacklight was originally intended to do, but he also knew that genocide was not something _he_ was ever going to do. Wide-scale slaughter just wasn't in his nature. He wasn't like Greene, wasn't like Sauron. He was better than them.

He furrowed his brows at the sound of hearts beating frantically, realizing that it didn't matter what _others_ thought of him. All that mattered was whether he could live with himself, whether he was able to live with the decisions he made.

At least, this was what he tried to make himself belief. However, then why did it hurt so much when the Fellowship shied away from him? Why did they watch him with those hateful eyes when he never even raised a finger against them? Why couldn't they understand?

And why were they so much like Dana?

Dana...He hasn't even spoken to her before she was grabbed by that Leader Hunter. He had tried to explain, knowing that he had started it all wrong. He would make it up to her as soon he returned home.

He paused and glanced back at the Fellowship. At the very least, they deserved the truth too. He couldn't just leave them wondering about him.

And whether he liked it or not, the rag-tag group of travellers was the only thing giving him any sort of direction, so he was going to stick around until he got a better chance.

* * *

It was already getting dark when Strider and Legolas reached the lining of a massive forest first. They continued their fast jog for a short while longer until they had brought enough distance between them and the open field before they finally slowed down.

Frodo was panting in exhaustion, though neither he nor his cousins dared to stop for rest at the moment. The Orcs were still out there, still hunting them. They had to find a safe place for the night first.

Gandalf's sacrifice had only delayed them, but not stopped the forces of Mordor.

Gandalf...

Frodo swallowed hard and his chest hurt. He didn't know how bad something could actually hurt without bleeding.

The reality set in slowly, forcing its way into his head even though he tried to deny it. Frodo really sought to believe that Gandalf was still there, that the Wizard was going to come back, smile at him and show off the fireworks. He really wanted all of this to be just a bad dream, that he would wake up in Bag's End with Uncle Bilbo and have a nice breakfast to regain strength from the terrors of the night.

But the cold, hard truth slapped him into the face like icy water.

Gandalf was dead.

And it was all his fault.

They should have taken the Gap of Rohan. They should have tried to cross the Mountain or sneak across Hollin instead of venturing through the mines.

They should have, but he had been too afraid. He had chosen the path of Moria and thus led Gandalf to his death.

Frodo choked back a sob. He didn't know how to proceed from here on.

Gandalf was dead.

The best friend he ever had asides from his family was gone. Never to return.

"Mister Frodo", Sam whispered, clasping his hand on his shoulder. The other Hobbit was frowning at him, as if trying to understand him.

But Frodo didn't even understand why he felt so bad himself. The Ring was pulling on its chain, seemingly heavier than a rock as if it was gloating.

Sense of dread washed over him, choking him and making his blood roar in his ears. His vision was clouded over with tears, forcing him to rub them away.

The feeling of dread was quickly brushed away, replaced by ice-cold fear.

What was going to happen now? How were they supposed to proceed?

He felt Sam's hand tighten on his shoulder and he turned to look at his best friend.

But Sam wasn't watching at him.

No, the other Hobbit was glaring with defiance at the one who currently had his attention on Frodo. The creature that had played them all ever since they met him in Bree. The one that called himself Alex Mercer.

His icy blue eyes were resting on Frodo, glowing unnaturally from the shade of his hood. Eyes like those of a predator, ready to tear and kill. Frodo shivered involuntarily as he remembered the giant talons he had suddenly grown after eviscerating an entire army of Orcs with only one attack.

But if he had all this power, why didn't he harm the Fellowship? Frodo had the feeling that the Wraith would have done so already, if he really wanted to. Yet he didn't.

Instead, he had remained at their side even when the Fellowship was afraid of him, and he knew it. But he helped him and Strider at the stairs, and then he even went so far as to try to fight the Balrog alone. And Alex also _knew_ that he couldn't win against the demon and still, he tried to stop it, even when he ended up being badly hurt.

Frodo swallowed hard when he remembered the shell that suddenly sprang up from his flesh that had protected him against the flames for a while. It was dark and they had been running, but the Hobbit was certain that it was the same creature that had attacked the Ringwraith at the River Bruinen months ago.

But that would mean that Alex was always there to watch over them in his own, twisted way. If this was indeed true, then the Wraith was not on the side of Sauron.

Frodo noticed the glare Alex was sending at him. It wasn't malicious, but rather...sad? Did he feel _sorry_ for the Ring-Bearer? Was he trying to understand what he was going through?

Suddenly, the Wraith's attention snapped away as he turned to glare at the trees around them. Frodo could see the black veins lash out of his shoulders and arms.

Something was watching them.

The Hobbit swallowed again, feeling how the Ring seemed to become heavier once more and the air around them changed. Something was aware that they were here. Something incredibly powerful.

Gimli had noticed it too, so he stopped and turned to him and Sam. "Stay close, young Hobbits", he whispered once they were in ear-shot. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods." He turned, holding his axe tighter. "An Elf Witch, of terrible power...All who look upon her fall under her spell..."

" _Frodo..."_

Frodo looked around startled. There had just been a voice, wasn't there?

But there was nobody. He felt his hair stand on end, only barely hearing Gimli's "...And are never seen again"

" _Your coming to us..."_ The voice whispered and Frodo stumbled back, blinking in bewilderment when a pair of ethereal blue eyes flashed in front of his mind for a second. Who was talking there? _"...is as the footsteps of doom. You bring great Evil here, Ring-Bearer."_ The voice had lowered to a hiss, but it wasn't malicious.

Still, Frodo felt incredibly uncomfortable. He didn't wanted to have this voice inside his head, and he still tried to figure out where it came from.

"Mister Frodo?" Sam asked worried. Frodo watched his friend's face, realizing that the voice had vanished again. From the corner of his eye he noticed Alex though, how he was baring his teeth and openly snarling at thin air. Frodo wondered if he could hear the voice too. He had said that he could hear the Ring's whispers just fine, so maybe that voice as well?

"Well", Gimli continued. Of course, he hasn't noticed what was going on. "Here is a Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!"

Suddenly he stopped, staring at the arrow pointed directly at his face.

Before anybody could react, they found themselves surrounded. A dozen or so Elves had sneaked up on them without anybody noting. Frodo saw Strider slowly lift his hands to show that he was unarmed and to show the Fellowship to do the same.

The Elves weren't their enemies and the companions weren't going to fight them.

A tall Elf stepped to the front, eyeing the Fellowship. "The Dwarf breathes so loud", he declared, "We could have shot him in the dark."

* * *

The sun had long since vanished beneath the horizon when the Fellowship stood together on a wooden platform mounted in the trees. Dozens of Elves stood around them, watching them, and even more were hidden in the canopy of the forest. Alex scowled at the Elf closest to him, making him jump back a step and nearly draw his bow at him. The Prototype was certain that these guys weren't a threat at the moment. Hell, Aragorn and Legolas were just proceeding to greet the Head Honcho Elf with all respect and started to talk to him like they were old friends.

But that didn't made up for the way the Elves 'escorted' them here. Alex had felt like he was a prisoner of sorts and only his fast comprehension had stopped his instincts from lashing out at everything around him when he found several arrows shoved in his face.

Neither the Elves nor the Fellowship had noticed that, thank God (or things would have gotten ugly really fast) and they then proceeded to walk deeper into the forest to a series of platforms and small buildings set up on the trees, where they climbed some rope ladders upwards.

Alex scowled at the ropes keeping his hands tied together which the Elves have put on him as soon he was up on the platform. The Prototype first didn't want to hear any of it, but Haldir had made it clear that they would otherwise take more drastic measures. Somehow, his tone had reminded the Virus of the Blackwatch soldier he saw killing the coroners back when he woke up in the morgue. _I'm authorized to shoot and burn your fucking corpse!_

Anything the Elves could have done wouldn't have hurt him, just irritate him, but Alex complied anyways, if only to prevent himself from _maiming_ the closest Elf that wasn't Legolas. The ropes weren't going to stop him anyways should he wish to free himself. In Manhattan, he had torn _tanks_ apart with his bare hands, so a piece of rope wasn't going to do anything.

Still, he held back and settled for glaring darkly at the Head Honcho, or Haldir, as he was called.

Gimli didn't hold back about his displeasure about being treated like a threat and snorted. "So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves." He glared at Haldir. "Speak words we can also understand!"

Haldir narrowed his eyes on the Dwarf, his voice turning venomous. "We have not had _dealings_ with a Dwarf since the Dark Days" He sneered.

Gimli bristled. "And you know what this Dwarf says to that? _Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul_!"

Haldir's glare intensified and Aragorn exhaled coldly before turning to the Dwarf. "That was not so courteous", he hissed.

The Elf turned his attention to the remaining Fellowship, glancing at them as others would watch bugs. His focus lingered on Alex for a long moment in which his expression showed pure disgust, before he moved on to Frodo. His eyes narrowed.

"You bring great Evil with you", he told Aragorn, then spun around and marched off. "You can go no further."

' _WHAT?!'_

Alex pulled his lips up in a snarl and stepped to the front, his shoulders and arms writhing with angry tendrils. The rope was obliterated in the very second he had formed his claws. Haldir made a startled noise and jumped back as the lethal biological metal suddenly dug into the tree trunk besides his head. To his credits, he did get his expressions under control rather quick when he spun around and faced the sentient Virus with his dagger drawn.

"You don't know _anything_ , Pretty Boy", Alex snarled. "You don't know what the _fuck_ is going on!"

"Alex!" Aragorn tried to get the Prototype's attention, hoping to drag him off the Elf before anything happened. The Elf guards around all had their bows drawn and targeted the Wraith already.

"One-" Alex hissed at the Elf leader, "One of our friends just _sacrificed_ himself so we could escape! He _died_ so the others could get to safety!"

He heard the Elf's heart rate spike and he could literally _smell_ the adrenaline surge through his blood stream, so the virus leaned in a little closer, making sure that his eyes were glowing. "We came here, hoping for a safe haven-and now you tell us we can't stay?!" He bared his teeth and scraped his free claws against each other with a shrill metallic shriek, though he did restrain himself to not harm the Elf in any way.

"Alex!" Aragorn said again, louder this time, having closed his hand around his wrist, trying to tug him away, but the Prototype didn't bother to move, but he did retreat the sharp chitinous spines to prevent the Ranger from hurting himself again. Instead, he was still snarling at Haldir. "Just think for one moment. There are Nazgûl out there who try to take what we carry with force. You can't just kick us out with a good conscience."

"Wraith like you", Haldir hissed, pressing his dagger into Alex' jugular, "Are what threaten this world. You are not welcome here."

The Prototype snarled again. "I already _know_ , Pretty Boy", he hissed. "I _know_ I am not welcome here. But this is not about _me_. This is about Frodo over there. He is the one who suffered most. _He_ is the one needing help from your Lady Galadriel." The virus simply pulled back, morphing his claws back into normal hands. "I don't care what you do with me. Kick me out on my ass, shoot me full of arrows...you can do whatever you want. I'll survive it anyways." Alex turned away, dismissing the Elf and the guards around. "I don't need any of you, but Frodo does. He didn't want any of this and now his best friend is dead because of this fucking Ring. Think about it."

He simply left, stalking away from the Elf to stand at the edge of the platform while also pointedly ignoring the other Elves that had their arrows aimed at him. He did, however, notice the surprised stare he got from Aragorn, and it didn't escape his attention that the Ranger had one hand curled around the heft of his sword.

"I think", Haldir growled, "We need to talk."

Aragorn just nodded and turned his attention to the Elf.

While they were discussing, the Fellowship looked around uncertainly, especially at him. Alex scoffed. Threatening Haldir was maybe not a very smart move, but somebody needed to get him off his high horse and tell him the facts.

The Prototype wondered again why he even bothered. Humans were food, not friends. And yet, here he was, defending Frodo from some Elf honcho.

' _Guess I get too attached to them, and they don't even trust me. Fuck this, I need to speak with Galadriel soon.'_

Alex watched Frodo pull his knees closer to his body, knowing fully well that the Prototype just only snapped to defend him. Alex could read body language pretty well, so he was aware what was going on in the Hobbit's head.

Boromir seemed to have picked it up too. He sighed and drew Frodo's attention. "Gandalf's death was not in vain, nor would he have you give up hope." The Hobbit slowly lifted his head, watching the Gondorian "You carry a heavy burden, Frodo", Boromir continued. "Don't carry the weight of the dead."

The Hobbit frowned, watching the Man as he turned the thoughts over in his head. Alex snorted. "Boromir's right. If you want to blame somebody, blame me. You know, I _could_ have prevented this all, if I hadn't been so stuck up. But what happened has happened, and none of us can change that. There's no use trying to think what could have been if something had been different." He crossed his arms, glaring at the forest around them. "So go on, Frodo. Blame me for being a fucking idiot. And then we can figure out what to do next."

Frodo's reply was cut short when Haldir cleared his throat. "You will follow me", he declared with an unhappy expression, glaring at them. "I will lead you to Caras Galadhon...tomorrow. For now, please rest. The way is long."

* * *

The Fellowship was sprawled out behind him on the platform, but none of them was asleep. Alex was watching them, keeping one eye on the Elves around too.

He _did_ threaten their boss and he didn't want them to try anything funny.

He heard Gimli swear under his breath, complaining about having to sleep in the trees when Dwarves rather sleep on the earth floor. The Hobbits weren't comfortable with the height either, but at least they didn't complain, though they did whisper amongst each other. Boromir was tossing and turning, glaring darkly at the Prototype whenever he would face his direction. Legolas was watching carefully.

Aragorn was still up, sitting on a low bench and smoking his pipe.

"You should sleep, you know?" Alex reminded him without looking in his direction.

"You should too", Aragorn gave back. "You were the one trying to battle a Balrog, after all. Oh, and let us not forget the hundred Orcs you slaughtered in one blow. You must be dead tired."

"At the moment I'm more concerned about waking up with a dagger in my spine", the Prototype replied, glaring at the Elves. "They don't like me."

"You assaulted Haldir", the Ranger explained. "They don't take this lightly."

"And I'm going to do that again if he doesn't change his attitude", Alex growled. "Somebody had to do this."

Aragorn sighed. "He is concerned with the safety of his home. And you have to admit, you are very scary."

The Prototype snorted. "I guess I am", he admitted. "But this is my true nature...though I am being pretty _nice_ for my standards, you know?"

Aragorn shuffled his feet and Alex could hear his heartbeats. " _What_ are you, Alex?"

"In short?" The virus wondered. "Blacklight. That's my real identity."

"Blacklight?"

Alex squirmed somewhat. "I...have been given those powers, in a sense. By people...trying to make a superior soldier- though it hasn't been my choice. It was forced on me."

The Ranger fell silent and Alex could feel his stare on his back. Also, the others have fallen silent and were listening now too.

"People gave you your powers", Aragorn echoed. "I believe I should be surprised that they even consider something like this...but I am not."

"The people of my home are fucking assholes. They did that solely to get the edge against other people, who wouldn't even need to be their enemies."

"Claws...armour...immortality..." Aragorn furrowed his brows. "What kind of people would even consider creating a Wraith an option for warfare?"

"Assholes", Alex replied. "To give them credits, they didn't intend to have me turn out like _this_." He let a flurry of tendrils run over his body. "The original idea was just to make their soldiers stronger, smarter, and harder to kill. Not like me." He snorted. "I should know. I killed a few of those."

He turned to face Aragorn. He wasn't surprised to see Haldir standing next to the Ranger, looking royally displeased. The Elf had hoped that they would be allowed to shoot the Prototype and boot him out of the forest, but that hadn't happened yet.

Alex chose to ignore him, instead crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Those powers come at a price, of course", he pointed out.

"Madness?" Aragorn asked in a sympathetic voice.

Alex shook his head. "Hunger", he explained.

"Hunger?" Aragorn seemed confused. Alex just barely remembered that he hadn't eaten much when travelling with the Fellowship, exactly the opposite of what he was implying. "I could ask Haldir whether he could get you something to eat."

"That's not going to help", the Prototype cut him off. "For healing, I need different food. Fresh food." He narrowed his eyes on the Ranger. "So fresh it is still _screaming_. Like animals, humans, Orcs and monsters- anything large enough really."

He heard the Fellowship gasp in terror before they scrambled away, though the Prototype kept his gaze on Aragorn and Haldir. The Elf had backed off and drawn his bow to target it at the Wraith, while the Ranger nearly dropped his pipe. Alex swore under his breath at the realization. That had been the wrong thing to say.

"Woah", he quickly said, trying to soothe the situation, "Don't you worry. _Any_ of you is off the menu. I would never stoop so low as to attack you. You have my word."

Aragorn still seemed shocked for several seconds, but Alex could see the gears turn in his head. After a few seconds, the Ranger cleared his throat. "So I was right...it _was_ you who took out the Orc encampments around Bree, wasn't it?" He frowned, trying to put his thoughts into words. "To... _eat_ them?"

"I figured this was the best way", the Prototype winced internally at the choice of his own words. "I mean, it was either Orcs or townspeople. The decision was quite easy." Alex sighed. "I'm not as much of a monster as people would like to believe, even if it is physically painful to me."

Aragorn's face suddenly lit up. "Like at the Amon Sûl?"

"Like at the Amon Sûl", Alex agreed. "The Morgul Poison- it killed me from the inside. I survived it easily enough, but the effects have taken my reserves. I couldn't heal anymore and I couldn't stay active for much longer. I would have needed something to feed upon."

"And it had been only me and the Hobbits back then", The Ranger realized. "That is why you left. You didn't want to hurt us."

"I did, but I nearly fucked up. _Again_." He squirmed. "I followed Arwen's trail, because she was the closest living thing. The Nazgûl saved her back then, because they were even closer than her. _That_ could have ended bad really fast." Frodo inhaled sharply when Alex turned his attention on him. "I would like to apologize, Frodo. I know it scared you and I can't take it back, no matter how much I wish I could."

There was a tense silence, until Aragorn worked up the nerve to ask. "And why did you tell us all of this?"

"Because you deserve the truth. I hoped to avoid telling you at all, but now I don't have much choice. I still need you to take me to Galadriel", the Blacklight carrier replied. He nodded over his shoulder. "Also, there is a group of Orcs coming closer and I am hungry."

Haldir flinched and spun around, barking orders at the other Elves. Apparently, he and the others haven't been paying all that much attention to their surroundings since there had been a man-eating Wraith amongst them.

The reply came back that yes- there was a small scouting unit of Orcs coming closer.

" _Tangado a chadad!"_ Haldir shouted, running to the edge of the platform. The Hobbits froze in fear when they heard the Orcs.

However, Alex was faster than the Elves. In one swift motion, he leapt off the platform and landed on the forest floor several feet below, much to the surprise of the approaching scouts. There were about six of them, and they had been moving as silently as possible to avoid detection.

Alex growled low and threw his arms out, shifting them back into the claws. He wasn't going to let the Elves kill the Orcs. Not when he needed them alive.

He brushed his tongue over his teeth when he took a step towards them.

Dinner was served.

* * *

The next morning begun much too early for the Hobbit's taste. It wasn't any wonder though, since the night before their companion had revealed that he was, indeed, a _man-eating monster_ capable of shredding and devouring six Orcs in half a minute flat.

None of them had slept at all after _that_.

Aragorn swallowed nervously.  
He certainly hadn't expected the Wraith to be that fast and _messy_ when finishing the hunt. The Elves weren't even able to fire a single shot, though several of them nearly dropped their bows when Alex had torn into the first two Orcs. Only moments later, the slaughter was over. Not a piece of the scouts was left once the Wraith was finished with them, leaving behind only the metal parts of their armours.

After that, Alex had wisely chosen to stay down on the forest floor, though he kept in the Elves' line of vision to show them that he wasn't going to go anywhere, waiting patiently for the night to pass.

The next morning, he continued to follow the Fellowship with enough distance so neither of them would feel threatened, but he wasn't going to let them out of his line of sight.

Aragorn had realized that he really didn't want to harm them, since he could have done so should he really have planned to. He wondered about it for a little while, since there were still so many questions he had.

The important thing he figured out was that Alex did trust the Fellowship enough to reveal this primal part of himself- which Aragorn was certain was something not many people were allowed to know and _live_.

If Alex trusted them with this, then the Fellowship had to trust in him. Aragorn didn't expect them to, in all honesty. After all, Alex could easily turn on them in any given moment.

But neither of them commented on this and followed Haldir and a group of Elves through the dense forest of Lothlórien.

Leaves rustled when they moved along and some fell gently to the ground. The deeper they moved into the forest, the more peaceful everything became. Birds were chattering in the branches and a few times they witnessed animals pass by.

The nights had been uneventful, luckily, and progress was smooth.

As the Fellowship climbed across the ledge of a hill, Haldir stopped where the trees parted to allow them a short break.

In front of them, they saw giant golden trees growing high above the forest. Aragorn didn't dare to breathe at the sight of the leaves shining in the evening sun.

"Caras Galadhon", Legolas gasped.

"Heart of the Elvendom", Haldir added. He turned to the Fellowship with a smile. "Realm of Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."


	11. Galadriel and Zeus

**Author: Story Time! And yes, Galadriel knows everything. She's awesome as that.  
EDIT: First uploaded on 24th February 2016, new Version on 21st May 2016.**

 **You know, I have seen a few complaints already (luckily they are not common) a** **nd, I am only going to say this once, if there are Plotholes not filled yet, I try to explain them later. Everything that happens in an earlier chapter will be explained towards the end. And, I don't know whether a few of you think at all when commenting, but if the story says 'Complete', then it is Complete, at least when DragonlordRynn has written it. So, if you have a question to an earlier chapter, keep it to yourself and _keep on reading_ , because it will be explained later on. I only update the Chapters a little bit, but their contents are mostly the same, so even if you read the old version, you can find your answers there.  
I repeat, do not comment or flame stuff just because you didn't manage to continue reading. If there is a Plotpoint I did not explain at the end of the Fanfic (Chapter 30), then you are more than welcome to ask something. But not something that is explained later on, Damnit!**

* * *

Galadriel and Zeus

Once night fell, the Fellowship was climbing up the winding stairs that had been gracefully embedded into the bark of the giant trees. Haldir was leading the way, telling them that those trees were Mellyrn trees from the far country of Tol Eressëa. They were trees that live for far longer than normal trees and do not lose their golden leaves during autumn, but rather first when their golden blossoms grew during spring. They bark was smooth and hard and had grown around the steps they were walking on. Alex kept pressed to the innermost side as to not accidentally break off one of them. With the fresh Biomass of the Orcs from a few nights before, he was considerably heavier than he was before. He winced internally at every creak the wood beneath him made, though it didn't appear to break any time soon.

He heard the Fellowship gasp the higher they climbed along beneath the arcades that covered the stairs, so he turned to look as well. Caras Galadhon was in front of him, an entire city in the trees, skilfully crafted into the branches as if the wooden walls had grown out of the limbs they were nestled upon. Lights gave illumination to the buildings and the stairs, but Alex couldn't figure out what source of energy they were using. It was a cold light, though it was incredibly soothing. It was softer than the harsh neon lights of Manhattan at any rate.

' _Dana would have really loved it here'_

He saw many Elves in those buildings around them, who were watching the Fellowship with interest, and they didn't appear to be hostile in any way. They were careful, yes, but not overly concerned with the Newcomers.

Alex' body was feeling energized somehow, more alive, though the Prototype was also a lot calmer than he was before. Maybe it was the aura of the place, maybe it was because he was no longer hiding. Maybe it was because he had finally made a decision. He was going to tell his companions all he knew. He was going to tell them the truth, about Greene, about Blackwatch, Redlight, Blacklight...and he was going to tell them of the many deaths he caused. He also wasn't going to stay with them any longer. After all was said and done, he was going to accept any judgement they were going to put upon him. If they wanted him to leave, then he was going to go.

As the Fellowship made a final round up the spiralling staircase, they found themselves standing in front of a large building seemingly grown out of the upper branches of the largest tree. The light shining from this construction was strong and still soothing, even though it would blind anybody who wasn't careful with looking at it. Without even knowing it, Alex was sure that this was were the Lady Galadriel was.

Haldir led them atop several round platforms to the bottom of a wide staircase, just beneath the bright light.

Then suddenly, two almost ethereal figures peeled out of the glare. Both of them wore long flowing robes and as they moved soundlessly towards them as if they were floating, one could have believed to see a pair of benevolent spirits.

Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, no doubt.

The Fellowship was stunned speechless and Pippin's jaw had dropped actually, though Merry was only barely keeping his mouth closed. Aragorn lowered his head in respect.

Alex heard several heart rates spike as the figures moved closer. He was watching them closely once the two stepped out of the light.

Both Elves were tall, even for Elf standards, and had long flowing golden hair.

The Lady moved her gaze over the Fellowship before throwing her husband a side glance. Celeborn didn't bother with greeting them though. "The enemy knows you have entered here", he declared darkly, "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone."

He furrowed his brows slightly as he counted the group's members. "Nine there are here, yet ten there were, set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf?"

The Fellowship flinched back slightly and Galadriel set her blue eyes on Aragorn when Celeborn continued. "For I much desire to speak with him, I can no longer see him from afar."

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land", Galadriel noticed. "He has fallen into shadow." Celeborn eyed his wife in surprise when Legolas exhaled before facing the two Elves. "He was taken by both Shadow and Flame", he explained. The Elf waited for a moment, lowering his voice "A Balrog of Morgoth." Celeborn looked both startled and defeated and Legolas added "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

Gimli looked to the ground in defeat, though Galadriel's soothing voice cut in.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life", the Lady declared, "We do not yet know his whole purpose."

Alex frowned, eyeing the woman in surprise. Gandalf's sacrifice...it had a purpose?!

Galadriel had meanwhile turned her attention to Gimli. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-Dûm fill your heart, Gimli, Son of Glóin." Gimli looked at her in surprise as she continued. "For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief."

Alex saw Boromir look at the Elf woman, who turned her blue gaze on him. She watched him for a moment, not blinking, and suddenly the Gondorian turned away, trying his best to keep together, but he still began weeping behind his hand.

The Prototype bristled a bit, trying to figure out what the Hell was going on here, when Galadriel set her eyes on him. His icy glare met her soothing blue and suddenly he could pick up something at the edge of his consciousness. It was...whispering? The Prototype hissed under his breath, trying to figure out where it came from or what it was saying, but every time he tried to grasp it, it flitted away from him. It was like trying to grab smoke. Galadriel crinkled her brows slightly, watching him before she turned her attention to her husband. Suddenly, the faint whisper was gone, leaving Alex wondering.

Was Galadriel just trying to get into his head?

Celeborn continued as if nothing happened. "What now becomes of this Fellowship?" He wondered. "Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

Aragorn was swallowing, frowning at the same time to find an answer, but Galadriel quickly cut him off. "The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all." She waited for a moment, twitching her lips up in a small smile. "Yet hope remains while the company is true." She smiled a bit wider. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace."

She nodded and took a step back, signalling that they were allowed to go. Haldir took over from there, telling them that they were going to get cleaned up while their gear was to be handed over to the Elves for cleaning and repairs.

Alex was glad to be able to leave now. He knew he had to talk to the Elf woman sooner or later, but at the moment, he was just too confused. Also, he was unable to figure her out and that left a bad taste in his mouth. He would need more information about her before he would be able to face her.

"Aragorn", Galadriel suddenly called out, stopping the Fellowship. "You travel with strange companions. A being neither Man nor Wraith, and still appearing like one. A creature beyond life and death, unable to truly die and unable to truly live."

The Ranger blinked for several seconds before it dawned on him. Slowly, he turned towards the Prototype, blinking at him. "Do you mean...Alex?"

"Alex, is that your name?" Galadriel turned towards the virus. "Or is it just another dead man's face you are wearing? Just another one of all those thousands of people you have taken for your own?" Instantly, the attention had snapped on the Blacklight Carrier, who was just staring at the Lady.

' _What?'_ Alex furrowed his brows, glaring at the woman who met his gaze without fear. "You are a creature not born on Arda, Blacklight, aren't you? You came from a different world, not too different from ours." Galadriel wasn't smiling anymore, frowning instead. "You have been made there with the sole purpose of eliminating and feeding off all life until only you remained."

"Oh HEY!" Alex protested, "I never did that and never intend to do that!"

"But it was your purpose, wasn't it?" Galadriel asked. She inclined her head by a shade, eyes turning thoughtful. "And yet you are right. You never tried to use what is your right to take all life. Instead you constantly denied your real purpose and..." She smiled at the Blacklight Carrier, leaving him utterly confused. "You try to find a meaning beyond all that. A meaning beyond destruction and death. But this is not found in Middle Earth, Blacklight."

The Lady turned to an utterly confused Aragorn. "You choose your allies well, Son of Arathorn. Please keep an eye on him, though. I still need some time to see all ends of this particular story."

* * *

At the base of a large tree, near a small basin with water, was a tent. Sam, Merry and Pippin were just busy preparing their bed rolls for the night. Frodo sat nearby, fiddling with the Mithril Shirt in his hands with Gimli commenting on its craftsmanship. It had been a great surprise for the Dwarf when the Fellowship had handed their old clothes over to the Elves waiting to repair them and the Ring-Bearer revealed the shirt of fine rings he wore beneath his clothes. Gimli wanted to know what Frodo's uncle had told him about Thorin and his companions and the Hobbit was just too glad to tell somebody who didn't know of the story. It was a good way to take his mind off what happened.

Boromir sat at the fire pit, staring into the flames without saying a word. Aragorn was slightly worried about his fellow Man, for he was never so contemplative and still. Same went for Alex, who was perched on one of the lowest branches of the tree, leaving one leg swinging as he, too, thought about something. Aragorn wasn't going to make him hurry up, though he did throw a few glances up to where he was- dozens of feet above them. It had been...quite the sight when he simply _ran up_ the Mallorn tree to reach his current perch as if he was running on flat ground. Another one of his abilities as a Wraith?

Throughout the forest the voices of the Elves sang. It was a sad song, and the Ranger didn't even need to understand Sindarin to know what they were saying.

"A lament for Gandalf", Legolas pointed out, fidgeting with the cup in his hands.

Aragorn paused sharpening his sword and looked up, listening to the voices in the trees.

"What do they say about him?" Merry asked.

"I do not have the heart to tell you", the Elf mumbled, turning to the Hobbits, "For me the grief is still too near."

"I bet they don't mention his fireworks", Sam muttered. "There should be a verse about them." He paused, frowning before he got up, picking up his voice. "The finest rockets ever seen, they burst in stars of blue and green." Aragorn paused and looked up, listening to the Hobbit. "Or after thunder..." Sam continued, "Silver showers...came falling like a...rain of flowers..." He trailed off, staring for a moment at nothingness before squatting back down with a huff. "Oh, that doesn't do them justice by a long road!" He complained.

Aragorn turned his attention to Boromir, who still hadn't moved. "Boromir", he called out. "Take some rest. These borders are well protected."

The Gondorian shook his head. "I will find no rest here", he mumbled. He turned to Aragorn and the Ranger was shocked to see his companion pale and twitchy. There were deep rings beneath his eyes and he was looking everywhere but him. "I heard her voice inside my head", he whispered. "She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me 'Even now there is hope left.'" He choked back a sob. "But I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope." Aragorn moved to sit besides him, encouraging him to continue. "My father-", Boromir continued with a cracking voice, "-Is a noble man, but his rule is failing..." He glanced at the Ranger with sad eyes. "And now our people lose faith." He paused again, furrowing his brows. "He looks to me to make things right- and I- I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored."

Aragorn patted his companion's shoulder, waiting for him to calm down. "Have you ever seen it, Aragorn?" Boromir eventually asked. "The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, its banners caught high in the morning breeze."

"The night turned day through the glare of thousands of neon lights", Alex' voice suddenly cut in from above, "Life rushing through the streets, no matter the time. Hundred thousands of people sauntering down the walkways while those damn cab drivers still don't manage to drive in their lane." Aragorn and Boromir both looked up to where the Wraith was sitting. His tone had become softer somehow. "An entire city made of glass and steel, reaching into the sky and surrounded by water, though not cut off from anything...That's Manhattan."

"Your home?" Aragorn asked. "You never told us about it."

"Didn't bother to", was the answer, "Though I think you deserve the truth. You put up with me, after all." He paused and turned, swinging both legs over the branch and glanced down at them. He pushed off the branch and dropped several dozen of feet down to the soft forest floor, hitting it with quite some force. The ground luckily cushioned the impact, though the tremor was still noticeable even at some distance.

"I've been meaning to ask about that", Aragorn pointed out as they moved towards the tent, where the others were. "I noticed that every time you jump or run, you shake the ground. Why?"

"Simple physics", the Wraith gave back. "I can devour an entire grown man in two seconds flat, yet my form doesn't change. I simply force the mass into a smaller frame." He paused. "I'm physically dense, like a rock. That's why I am heavy, and that is why I cause quakes whenever I jump somewhere."

"But Wraith are spirits, nearly weightless", Boromir mumbled.

"I said I am worse than one" Alex gave back, "And I mean it, because I am not a Wraith, though it is the closest match."

"You said you are a Blacklight", The Ranger remembered.

"That's only the name", the hooded man replied, "What I am, what I _was made to be_ , is a _weapon_." He snorted without amusement. "I was designed to be a weapon, but those that made me had no idea that I would turn out like _this_. Thinking, moving, acting on my own and looking like a person, I mean."

"Wait...a weapon?!" Legolas cut in, eyes wide, "Like sword and bow?"

"Technically yes, though where I come from there is a second type apart from steel and fire. The people there have developed something they call 'Biological Warfare'. They are using _diseases_ to decimate the enemy."

"Diseases? Like a Plague?" Aragorn wondered.

"Exactly", Alex paused, furrowing his brows. "You know that some people get sick easier than others, right? That is because their bodies aren't as resistant to some illnesses as others. When two people of different parts of the world meet, one can carry a sickness that is harmless to one of them, while deadly to the other. That is how Biological Warfare started- using pox-infested blankets to kill people who never had pox before."

"I never heard of such a way of fight before", Legolas pointed out. "It is highly dishonourable and cowardly."

"But effective", Alex gave back. He sat down on a root, motioning for the others to sit down too. "It's no wonder you never heard of this before, though." He exhaled coldly. "You heard what the Lady Galadriel said. I am _not_ from this world. _My_ world is called 'Earth'. We don't have any Elves, Orcs, Dark Lords, Magic or other things. All that lives there are humans and animals. But there are a lot of humans, nearly seven _billion_ people live on all of the planet."

"What is a 'billion'?" Pippin asked curiously.

"One billion is a one with nine zeroes. Or, if you want it that way, one million is a thousand times thousand. And _billions_ , well, that his one thousand times more than one million."

Aragorn sucked in air through his teeth with a hiss. One Thousand times one thousand was already a giant amount...but this a thousand times more? The number was so incredibly large, he could barely believe it. Judging from the stares of the Fellowship, they two had troubles trying to think about an amount of people that large. And Alex had said _nearly seven billion_. That was...a whole lot of people.

"What I am going to tell you only happened in one city, or better, a part of a city", the Wraith continued. "The city is called _New York City_ , containing about 8.2 million inhabitants. It has five parts: Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens, Staten Island and Manhattan. And the island of Manhattan is where I am from."

"How...how is it possible to feed so many people?" Sam wondered, "A city of that size..."

"Technology", Alex shrugged. "You know, we don't have magic, but technology and science. The people of my world can talk to somebody on the other side of the planet, having a conversation that goes about oceans using special devices. The people can travel faster than any horse can run, can cross even the oceans and the sky with the help of machines."

"Machines...like the devices Dwarves are using for their mines?" Aragorn asked.

"Exactly", the hooded man agreed, "Though the machines have many different purposes and there are a lot that run on 'artificial lightning' to give of light, to give of heat, to do work for the people. Hot water comes out of the walls whenever you want." He paused and frowned. "It is paradise, but there is a dark side to that, too. There are advanced weapons. The military is one of the main forces behind scientific developments, after all. There are weapons- _guns_ \- that can shoot a small metallic ball- a bullet- across a distance of a mile, so fast it can kill a man before he even hears the crack of the shot. And there are weapons capable of utterly decimating an entire city in a single ball of fire, killing thousands with one blow."

Aragorn stared at the man, trying to figure out whether he was telling elaborate lies, but then he realized, that he was actually telling the _truth_. Where Alex came from, from _Earth_ , Mankind slaughtered each other with unethical weapons and dishonourable ways of warfare. The thought was frightening.

"And you- you are the direct result from this...warfare, aren't you?" Legolas asked carefully.

Alex nodded solemnly. "I am. I was made to be a weapon by the same assholes that would blow up a camp of innocent civilians if they believed there was one bad guy in it. The people with power and money are trash. All of them." The hooded man shook his head. "I wouldn't exist if it wasn't like this, though, but then _millions of people_ would have been still _alive_." He leaned back, watching the sky for a moment. "I better start with the beginning."

The Fellowship didn't answer, just watching him lean his elbows on his knees and steeple his fingers. His face was mostly hidden by his hood that way.

"It all started when I woke up in a morgue", he explained. "A morgue is where dead bodies are stored and worked on to figure out what they died from before they are made ready for burial. But I wasn't to be buried anytime soon." He paused. "All I can remember are two guys in special safety suits standing over me, discussing about me. For a long time, I couldn't move, but I could listen. I heard them mentioning the name 'Mercer, Alex J.' and figured that it must have been _my_ name." He chuckled. "I wasn't sure about that, though, since I couldn't remember _anything_. I tried to move, to open my eyes...anything. But I couldn't. But when I heard them mentioning something about cutting me open, I finally managed to get up."

Aragorn saw Boromir furrow his brows. "Waking up in a place for the dead...the men got scared, didn't they?"

"They did", Alex agreed. "But what bothered me was that they stared at me as if I was the devil incarnate. They shouted something about getting a _Kill Team_ inside before they rushed out in panic. I didn't know what they were talking about, but I knew it sounded bad. So I tried to get out."  
He chuckled a bit. "I couldn't walk straight for the first few yards, always bumping into things and walls. It was as if I was walking for the first time. I managed to figure it out soon enough though and I escaped into the parking lot in front of the building I was in. I saw the men again and there was a third with them, but I didn't try to ask them. I was too... _afraid_ to meet them, I guess? Anyways, I hid behind a car, trying to figure out what to do next. I mean, I couldn't remember anything, but I was certain that walking up to them and striking up a conversation was the wrong thing to do since they ran away from me _screaming_."  
He paused and began scowling. "And then, the soldiers in black arrived. They came in that _Blackhawk_ , a vehicle capable of flight, rushing out in the dozens to stand in front of the three guys on the parking lot. I had the feeling that these guys were bad news, so I stayed hidden. But I heard everything. They shouted at the three men and suddenly shot them dead without so much as blinking an eye." His scowl deepened and Aragorn felt the rage rolling off the hooded man. "And then they discovered me."

"They shot you too", Legolas noticed startled. "Didn't they?"

"They did", Alex growled. "Backed me up against a wall, didn't even let me explain myself. Just gunned me down." He snorted. "I didn't stay down, though. I got back to my feet, confused and scared, and just jumped over a two-story tall wall. I _knew_ that normal people don't do that. They _don't_ survive getting pelted by bullets and they _don't_ jump over a fence three times their own height. But I didn't care. I just continued running, soon even up a building in an attempt to escape my pursuers."  
He paused. "They caught up to me quickly though, shooting large explosive projectiles, missiles, from the Blackhawk in an attempt to stop me. He picked up a car and threw it back at the Blackhawk, destroying it and killing everyone inside." Alex shook his head. "I couldn't believe what I just did. Such powers I suddenly had only appear in stories. But I didn't question it. A little while later and two destroyed Blackhawks more and I had finally shaken them off." He scowled. "I was stumbling through an alleyway, always jumping startled when I heard something behind me. I didn't know what the fuck was going on. I had no idea _who_ I was. For all I knew, Alex Mercer could have been somebody else entirely. I didn't know what else the men had been talking about. Blacklight, fifty-one, Dana A. Mercer...nothing of that made any sense to me. Neither did that I haven't died already. I was just so exhausted and my body hurt, but not from the bullets that hit me. Once I've reached the end of the alley, I sat down, hoping I'd wake up soon enough from this nightmare." He lowered his voice a bit. "I didn't. I just sat there, waiting for something that would never come, had nothing but my own confused thoughts. And then _he_ came around the corner."

"Who?" Merry asked.

"A low soldier named James Goodwin", Alex explained. "He thought I was dead, and was trying to make sure that I wouldn't get up again. He shot me in the head, then turned his back on me." He scowled again. "I didn't die. Instead, I got up, killed him...and consumed him."

"Consume-" Aragorn began, suddenly realization setting in. "You-you devoured him?!"

"I did"; Alex admitted. "But it was...horrible. I didn't know anything about me, but I knew it was just plain _wrong_ when my body grabbed the corpse and dragged it inside me like it was perfectly _normal_. I was disgusted, trying to stop it- but I couldn't. And suddenly there were memories inside my head. For a split second, I thought they were my own, but I quickly realized that those didn't belong to _me_. They were _Goodwin's_ _memories_. His thoughts. His ideas. His feelings. Whatever I have done, I had taken everything that was him. I felt sick, disgusted...and still I wanted _more_." He chuckled weakly. "I quickly got more too. Goodwin's leader was currently moving towards me. But then..." He trailed off. "Then I _became_ Goodwin."

Aragorn was about to ask what he meant when suddenly Alex' shape shivered with countless tendrils and veins, running quickly across his body. The Fellowship gasped and flinched back as soon the Wraith turned solid again, but this time as a completely different person. He was taller than the original Alex, and dressed from head to toe in a dark uniform with several belts across his thighs, chest and stomach. A black helmet with three glowing lenses covered all of his face.

"When I mean I became James Goodwin", the Wraith continued, though his voice had changed. It was deeper, warped through the mask and mingled with a low hiss. "I mean it in the most literal way." He paused, head inclined to the side, shifting his body once more, this time to an elder heavy-set man in a green-and-brown uniform whose arm was missing from the shoulder. "Whenever I consume somebody", Alex continued with a different voice once again. "I become able to change my appearance into them. And, combined with my ability to take their memories, I _am_ that person in almost every sense in the word." He demonstrated it further when he shifted a few more times, using different men for every shape. Aragorn could only stare dumbfounded when Alex eventually settled for the appearance of a young woman with tousled red hair dressed in a very tight black leather-like suit before rapidly shifting again.

The Ranger reeled back at the sight of _himself_ sitting on that root. "I do not require consuming them completely, though", the Wraith pointed out. "A piece of skin, a drop of blood, Hell, even a few hairs ripped out with the root is enough to assume their appearance, even if I do not possess their memories in those instances."

Aragorn's gaze shifted downwards to the bandage on his hand. "Exactly", his own voice explained to him. When he looked up he was startled to see Alex, still in _his_ appearance, with unfurled claws (it was unnerving to see himself having such talons). "You injured yourself on these here", Alex told him, nodding to his claws before rapidly changing back into his own shape. "And that had been enough to take your appearance."

"So..." Boromir muttered, eyes darting from Aragorn to the Wraith. "You _used_ this James Goodwin's appearance...to trick his leader?"

"And then I consumed him too", Alex explained. "Lieutenant Charles Perri. His memories told me a bit more, allowing me to figure out something I shouldn't have forgotten: Who Dana A. Mercer was."  
His expression turned slightly pained. "My sister. Instantly, I realized that when they knew who she was, they knew where she was. And she was in danger. After all, these men, _Blackwatch_ , they shot three men who barely had any contact with me in that morgue. I didn't dare to wait for them to get to Dana."

"You went to her and took her to safety", Legolas noted.

"I did. Turns out, I had her snoop around the place I woke up- Gentek- for a few months already and she told me that I actually _worked_ there before I ended up in that morgue. I couldn't remember anything, so when I brought Dana into a safe place, I went to check my own apartment. Sadly, I couldn't find anything there worth of noting before Blackwatch was back and burnt everything. I did, however, learn that there had been some guy releasing a lethal virus in a building nearby. All I knew was that Penn Station and the plague that ran rampant there had something to do with me, though I never went there because there were too many Blackwatch Soldiers."

He paused, waiting for them to soak up what he had told them.

"And then?" Aragorn asked. "This...doesn't sound like what you have told me before with Blackwatch hunting you."

"These were the first and second day", Alex told him. "On the third, I doomed Manhattan."

"How?"

The Wraith sighed. "Dana's research turned something up. The name 'Elizabeth Greene', and something about a town called Hope. Greene was at Gentek, so this was where I started. I went back there and found out where she was. Inside the building. First I didn't think anything was weird, but once I reached the level she was on...well, that was when I realized that something was off."  
Alex frowned at the Fellowship. "And I don't only mean the half-melted _dead_ scientists lying around, or the flesh growing on the walls. It was...as if there was a voice in the back of my head. I could only barely understand it, but somehow it made me go to where Greene was. I thought she would have the answers to my questions, instead, she only created more. And I foolishly set her free." He scowled angrily at those memories. "She wanted me to join her, but I objected once I realized that I made a mistake by coming there. She wasn't so happy about it and went on to kick my ass before escaping into the city. And that was when the shit hit the fan big time."

The hooded man growled for a second. "Greene, she was infected with a virus. Redlight. I don't know how much of her actions were her decision or Redlight's, but she went straight into the most densely populated area. And the virus spread, starting to affect every living human around her."

Aragorn's eyes widened. "You said that millions died...so this woman, this Elizabeth Greene, she killed them with her poison breath?"

"In a sense", Alex admitted. "When I said the people died, I mean the humans they once were. Their bodies, however, they continued living. Redlight is really bad at actually killing its hosts. No, it changed them, corrupted them and turned them into mindless beasts only following Greene's orders." His eyes flashed once. "Kind of like Sauron made the Nazgûl, combined with the symptoms of _rabies_."

"A plague...creating Wraiths?" Legolas gasped. "What kind of devilry is this?"

"I didn't know. All I knew was that _I_ have been the one to fuck that up. My first thought was to grab Dana and get out of Manhattan, but then I decided to stay and try to clean up my mistake. Manhattan was the safest place for the infection, actually, since Redlight is deadly afraid of water. It couldn't cross the rivers to either side, so all I had to do was to defeat Greene there before the infection spread."  
The Wraith frowned. "It was easier said than done, though. Blackwatch had by now quarantined the entire city, blocked every escape route and locked in the infection, and the still unaffected people, in. They killed anyone who tried to leave. And they sent their men inside to try to stump the infection out. But their main target was still _me_ , though I didn't know _why_."

"They believed you were responsible for the release of this woman...didn't they?" Boromir wondered.

"Amongst others. What they really were after was the infection inside of _me_ ", Alex declared. "Around the fifth day, when I met with a woman called Karen Parker, I had figured out that I was infected too, only that I kept my wits and was immune to Greene's orders. I asked Karen to find a cure for me and the city."

"Was she a friend of Dana?" Pippin asked. "To help a man like you?"

"She was...my girl friend", Alex said slowly. "Or used to. I don't know how deep our relationship was, I am not even sure whether we were engaged or not, but I figured that if she had any feelings left for me, then she would be able to help me."

The Wraith's face suddenly morphed into an enraged scowl with his eyes lighting up in brilliant crimson. Angry tendrils lashed out of his skin and clothes, snapping through the air. "But she _didn't_!" He snapped. "She _betrayed_ me! Sold me to _Blackwatch_!"

Aragorn winced at the tone in his voice. He had trusted that woman, and she gave him up to his enemies. He didn't know much about the man, but he knew one thing.

"You killed her", the Ranger muttered. "Murdered her in cold blood, didn't you?"

"I did. I shredded her, left her alive just long enough to see me leave her to bleed out slowly", Alex confirmed, "But that was later. She had fled after I sending me to a trap, escaped with Blackwatch and left me at the mercy of Blackwatch's most dangerous soldier: Captain Cross." Alex was still scowling, but the anger had subsided. "Cross fought with me and I- being overconfident- didn't pay too much attention to him. When he was on the ground, he mentioned Penn Station and I kind of lost my focus there. I didn't know why, but mentioning this place made my head hurt as if there was something I should know. Cross used that moment to stab the cure Karen made into my back." He paused, glaring at his hands. "It nearly killed me."

"Cures aren't supposed to kill", Merry said confused, "Why did it hurt you?"

"I didn't know. It was like a parasite, rooting deep inside me. It was impossible to figure out where I ended and it began, but all I knew was that it was starting to feed off me and it prevented me from using my claws or other weapons, making even my consuming and shape-shifting powers slow and inefficient. Dana helped me again, sending me into the direction of a Doctor Ragland, who used to work for Gentek years before all of this happened. She also found a picture from Hope, and a picture of Greene, but this picture was easily forty years old. Greene was well over fifty at that point, but Redlight stopped her aging and drove her mad, though she kept her mind unlike the people she infected."

"The Wraith", Legolas noticed. "All those...thousands of people corrupted and turned into her drones?"

"Mindless husks of humanity. Many half-melted with oozing growths all over their bodies. Driven only by the instinct to attack any not infected beings. Flesh turned grey and rotten, limbs changed into a mockery of the weapons I can conjure", Alex explained. "Most of them, anyways." He scowled. "Easy to defeat and consume, since there wasn't any shred of their human lives left in them. But somehow, I felt sorry for them. Like me, they never asked for any of this. They just wanted to live their own lives without troubles, then some psycho bitch just did so much as _breathe_ on them and they tear their own families apart the next second. One and a half week after I released Greene and five out of ten people were mindless drones." Alex waved his hand through the air. "But that wasn't the worst. Three out of ten people died for Greene and their bodies changed, turning into pure flesh that began to cover Manhattan. And from this flesh, Greene's army was born: _Hunters_."  
The Wraith growled again. "Powerful beasts. One was more than enough to decimate an entire troop of highly-trained Blackwatch Soldiers, and a pack of them was able to put me in danger. They had nothing left of their humanity. They were perfect killing machines, working only on Greene's orders."

"Millions died", Aragorn whispered. "Millions...through a plague? That is terrible."

"It was", Alex agreed. "And what was worse, I now had to battle on four sides at the same time: The Marines, the army of the country; Blackwatch, who tried to capture me and Greene for reasons unknown; Greene and her army; and the Parasite that still ate its way through my flesh." He shook his head. "Though I did manage to get the Parasite off me with the help of Doctor Ragland. Once I was free and had become stronger, I returned to Dana. But..." He growled again. "But then a large Hunter burst into her home and took her away. I tried to catch it, to make it let go of her, but I lost them. I lost both of them."  
Alex' voice dropped to a near-whine. "I was _devastated_ and raging at the same time. I would have torn through all of Manhattan to get Dana back. But I didn't. Back then, I finally began using my head. I went to find one of those large Hunters, Leader Hunters that keep the armies in check, and consumed it to figure out where the one was that took Dana. When I got to that and devoured it too, I learnt where Greene was. So I went there, and faced Greene."  
He scowled again. "I managed to defeat the monsters she threw at me before she fled, and rescued Dana. She was safe, but I wasn't one step closer to Greene or the truth about what happened at Penn Station."  
He glared angrily at the ground. "That changed when Cross appeared once more."

"The man who defeated you once", Boromir noticed.

"He had done his own digging and found things that didn't sit right with him about Blackwatch and Hope. So he went to _me_ to help him stop Blackwatch and the Infection. And that was when I finally learnt the truth. The whole truth. And I didn't like it one bit."

"And what was it?"

"Hope was an experiment for Redlight. God alone knows where Blackwatch found the virus, but they discovered that it caused certain animals to grow more intelligent, more powerful, more resilient. Naturally, they believed it could be used to make Super Soldiers, warriors stronger than those of the enemy. So Blackwatch built a town and brought in people, infecting them with a weak strain and checking what happened to their offspring."  
Alex scowled. "It was terrible. All of the children born were deformed, and not just only too many limbs or overgrown body parts. I mean _claws_ and _spikes_. None of them survived, though. Until Redlight got out and infected everybody inside that hospital. Greene was amongst the affected people."

"The virus...it made her the Queen of those monsters?" Aragorn asked startled.

"That it did. Greene somehow made it become more dangerous, more effective. In the end, Blackwatch could no longer contain the infection and decided to eradicate the town. Before that, however, they made one last effort to capture Greene. It was easy, since she was in the process of giving birth to a child and thus easily taken in. When Hope burnt in Nuclear Hellfire, Greene and her son, Pariah, were taken away. Blackwatch separated them and experimented on both of them and Greene became the source of countless offshoots of different viral strains Blackwatch tried to make into weapons through their allies Gentek."

"And where does this...Penn Station come in?" Boromir questioned.

Alex threw him a glance. "I am telling this so you know where all of this came from. Ragland had worked on the project, but he left before it could go any further. Instead, Gentek used several scientists, but none of them could measure up to Ragland. Until a brilliant young man appeared. He managed to make Redlight more dangerous, more effective, more adaptive...While he was constantly being told he was making a _cure_ for any known disease. The point was, he _knew_ what he was doing, but still he continued because the pay was good. But as soon as the project came to a close, the man realized that his colleagues began to disappear. He wasn't stupid, so he contacted somebody and ordered them to sniff out what happened."  
He glared darkly. "Blackwatch _eliminated_ the other scientists. The man knew he was going to be the next one, so he destroyed all samples of the virus and the data necessary to create it and tried to flee. As insurance, he took the only remaining vial with him and went to Penn Station. Blackwatch was waiting there."

"And the man released the plague", Aragorn finished darkly, "Didn't he?"

"He did and got shot dead for this", Alex explained. "But the Virus worked _brilliantly_. It killed well over five thousand people within _minutes_. That was its weak point, however. It couldn't spread any further, since there was no host left. The outbreak was stopped within moments. But then something happened what nobody believed was possible."

Alex leaned back, exhaling coldly. "The Virus slipped into the man's bloodstream and changed him from the inside out. Infected his dieing body. Turned him into a _monster_."

Aragorn stared in horror. "The man's name...What was it?" He asked, though he could tell that the Fellowship already figured it out.

"It was...Alex Mercer...right?" Frodo piped up, his voice thin. "Alex Mercer, he died in that station, didn't he?"

"Alex Mercer did indeed die. He screwed over the world in one last glorious 'Fuck You' before getting gunned down, but the Virus he made, _Blacklight_ , it resurrected his body and walked off with it, believing it was him." The hooded man chuckled. " _I_ resurrected Alex Mercer and walked out of that morgue using _his_ face, _his_ name. But I am about as much Alex Mercer as I am James Goodwin. _I_ am Blacklight, the Virus he made. The revelation- it freed me. It killed me, and it took away any hopes I had to become ever normal again. There was no _normal_ for me. I wasn't infected, I _was_ the Infection."  
Alex snorted in disgust. "I clawed my way to the top of a mountain of corpses just to figure out that all I hoped for, that everything I believed was _wrong_. I killed nearly a thousand people, Blackwatch, Marines, Civilians and Infected alike just to figure out that what I always wanted wasn't possible."

There was a tense silence before he continued with a more silent voice. "And still, something made me go on. Maybe it was because I still wanted to protect Dana. She wasn't my sister, after all, just another human I normally prey upon, though I didn't see her that way. She was the only one who trusted me, and I didn't want to betray that trust. So Cross and I kept going. Eventually, Blackwatch, the Marines and I managed to drive Greene out of her hideout and I killed her, devoured her and took the head of the infection. Without their Queen, the Infected were easy prey." His glare darkened. "But then, when things were going up once more, Blackwatch decided to throw the towel and cauterize the wound. Cross knew they were going to raze all of Manhattan, and probably all of New York City to the ground just as they did Hope. I couldn't allow that, so Cross and I went to stop them. I killed Blackwatch's General and took control of the warhead they wanted to destroy the city with. But then something happened I couldn't foresee."

He shook his head in disbelief. "I took the warhead out over the ocean, knowing that it would blow up no matter what I tried. So when it did, I was fully prepared to be annihilated in the resulting ball of fire. But somehow, I ended up here, inside an Orc encampment. Once I got free, I went to Bree where I met you, Aragorn."

The Fellowship was silent and Aragorn could almost see them turning what they heard over in their heads. The companion had just admitted to them that he was something not human, more even a _plague_ fashioned to be a weapon, designed to kill humans. And he already did so, murdering scores upon scores of human enemies.

There was a low huff when Alex got up and turned away. "That's it", he declared. "Now that you know, I can no longer stay with you. You won't need to see me ever again, promise."

"Why would you leave?" Frodo suddenly asked, halting his steps.

"Why?" Alex turned to eye the Hobbit. "I am a danger to all of you. Who knows how long I can keep my natural instincts under control when I meet more Orcs? I could easily kill and consume all of you, even by accident. Or worse. I could infect you just as Greene did with eighty percent of Manhattan's population."

"But you also said you'll protect us", the Ring-Bearer pointed out stubbornly. "You said you'll come with us."

"And you already did selfless deeds instead of violence towards us", Aragorn explained. "You faced the Nazgûl, you fought the Orcs of Moria, you even tried to stop the Balrog of Morgoth. All enemies that wouldn't have to interest you if you were as selfish as you claim to be." He crossed his arms, staring the virus down. "I believe that the Fates brought you here to help us in those dark times."

"I don't believe in Fate."

"Wasn't it Fate that you turned out the way you are? A simple plague should not be able to think, even if it was able to take a human shape. No, my friend, this has been the work of Fate." The Ranger put his hand on the hooded man's shoulder. "I believe that you have been put here to _redeem_ yourself. Thousands died by your hands, but ten of thousands will be saved."

"Fight for Gondor", Boromir added with a smirk. "Fight for the people, for freedom."

"And", Gimli added grinning, "Sauron won't have a chance against a man that can eat his armies, right?"

* * *

Alex would never have believed that the Fellowship did take his story so well. While it was still preferable to a complete freak-out and subsequent screaming (and probably shooting), it was much more confusing than what he was used to.

Maybe it was his honesty that swayed them to his favour. Maybe it was because they were living in a magic world with Dragons and Wraith, so a bio-engineered Weapon of Mass Destruction was something new admittedly, but not very surprising.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to think of this, but something told him to reward them for their trust. He was going to help them defeat the Dark Lord, then he would try to figure out a way back home. Dana was still his top priority, but if there was a way to leave Middle Earth, then he wouldn't leave it with things left unfinished.

So when he met Aragorn a few days later strolling about the Elven City, he told him that. The Ranger seemed surprised at first, but gladly accepted his help anyways.

"I will be glad when you'd help us destroy the Ring", the Ranger pointed out, "Your strength will surely help us much on our way."

The Prototype was silent for a moment. "Aragorn?" He eventually asked, "Why don't we just finish all this, right here, right now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I say I'll just take Frodo, run over to this Mordor country and have him throw that Ring into the volcano. I could make the trip in a week, maybe two- with breaks and nap time, of course. We wouldn't need to go any further and you wouldn't get your asses into dangerous situations."

"It won't be so easy, Blacklight." Alex and Aragorn both turned at the sound of a new voice, surprised to see the Lady Galadriel standing behind them.

"My Lady", the Ranger gasped, scrambling to show his respect.

"Be at rest, Aragorn", the Elf Woman replied with a smile. "If I wanted you to bow to me, I would have announced myself. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation." She motioned for them to walk with her. "But as much as it pains me to deny your suggestion, Blacklight, I can not allow you to take the Ring-Bearer with you."

"Why? A lot of lives could be saved that way."

"I am aware. But the true enemy is not Sauron." Galadriel shook her golden head. "No. The one that caused the downfall of mankind is the lack of hope."

Aragorn furrowed his brows. "Lack of hope?" He wondered.

"Mankind is weak", the Elf Lady told them "They are weak even though they have a lot of strength within them. But the lack of hope denies them to find it. Gondor and Rohan, and all of the free people of Middle Earth are trapped in the role of a victim. Sauron's forces have found easy prey. Prey they won't let up so easily."

Alex inclined his head. "So...even if we kill off Sauron, it wouldn't have any effect on the people?"

"They wouldn't even realize that the Darkness is gone", Galadriel agreed. "They would forever be stuck in their own nightmares." She paused. "The people need guidance. Someone who will unite them against a common enemy. Someone who will show them that with a little bit of courage everything can be accomplished." She sighed. "I know, what I ask of you would include a great amount of sacrifice. Many people are going to die, but you have to wonder, what is better? Leave them brood in their own misery, or show them the light? We Elves won't be in Middle Earth for much longer. We are leaving the shores."

Aragorn said nothing, frowning at nothing in particular as he turned that thought over in his head. Alex, however, was eyeing Galadriel, trying to make sense of what she said. But then another thought began clawing its way into his brain, and he couldn't help but ask.

"Do you know how I could return home? You knew I'm not from around here, so is there a way to get back to Manhattan?"

"There is", Galadriel told him with a serious expression. "And it is quite simple. Even though Light and Darkness need to exists alongside each other, Sauron's growing influence has caused an imbalance in Middle Earth." She motioned towards him. "You are, in a sense, an imbalance of your own realm, a being which was never supposed to exist in the first place. At the very moment you very nearly lost your life, something dragged you over into our realm."

"Birds of a feather flock together", Alex realized. "You mean...because I am an _imbalance,_ I was drawn here...to the other one?"

"In short, yes", Galadriel agreed. "The true reason is more complicated." She eyed the Prototype. "As long the stronger imbalance- the one plaguing Middle Earth- is not corrected, then it is impossible for you to return to your own , as soon as balance is restored, it is possible to open a gate for you to return."

"But balance..." Aragorn noticed, "It doesn't mean that the Ring has to be destroyed, doesn't it? Balance goes either way."

"Indeed", the Lady pointed out. "To dye Middle Earth either in Light or in Darkness is all the same to your problem, Blacklight. You could very well head to the Dark Lord and have him vanquish all that is good to return to your home." Suddenly she smiled. "Yet you chose the harder way, the path of Light, even if none of us had to interest you. And for this, I am eternally grateful. Despite all what you are, there is still a lot of benevolence in your heart."

"Maybe", Alex grumbled. "I'm doing this mainly because Sauron was in my head, trying to order me to do things. Everybody who tried to use me in the past is dead, killed by my claws. And I am intending to do the same with Sauron." He paused, frowning at the Elf woman.

"How did you peg me so fast, though? I know for fact that Aragorn and the others were suspicious about my claim to be a Wraith, but you figured out that not only I've been designed to be a weapon, but also that I'm not from Middle Earth."

The Elf Lady smiled. "My Ring, Nenya, allows me to read the souls and minds of those I wish. I was unable to read yours though, Blacklight. All I managed to see were fragmented remains of the souls of the victims you devoured. Don't worry, if you believed that there are souls trapped inside you, then you were mistaken. They have moved on as soon their bodies died." She paused, watching him closely. "Your...condition, however, makes you immune to the whispers of others."

"Then why do I hear Sauron? I can hear him when I'm in the closer proximity of the Ring", Alex questioned.

Galadriel inclined her head. "That is not because he is more powerful than I am. At the moment, you are more susceptible to his whispers, because there is something of Mordor still stuck within your flesh." She glanced at Aragorn, whose face lit up, before turning back to Alex. "You have been injured by a Morgul Blade, haven't you?"

"That had been months ago and I feel completely fine. Really."

"This might be true", Galadriel agreed, "You have become immune to the Morgul Poison lingering within the blade, but the dark magic that gave the Nazgûl life also is within their weapons. And Morgul Blades have the unpleasant trait to leave pieces of themselves behind, even after they have been removed. This piece is increasing Sauron's hold over you."

"Shrapnel" Alex noticed. _Also called 'the silent death'. Grenade splinters continue to kill even when the victim survived the blast...Morgul Daggers seemingly are the same._

"Exact. And there is still something inside of you. You have to remove it as to not fall prey to Sauron's whispers."

The Prototype frowned. "That's it?" He wondered. "Just a shard, nothing more?"

"How are we supposed to remove it?" Aragorn wondered. "As far I've seen, you heal very swiftly."

"That's no problem", the Virus answered. "I am different to you humans." He pulled back, focussing inwards to figure out where the containment was. "I can control every single bit of myself, down to the tips of my hair." He spread his arms to the side and shifted his entire body back into the clothes he chose when he first began his journey in Middle Earth. "I don't have organs, or bones, Aragorn. All I have is pure Biomass, an organic substance I can change however I wish." He let a few tendrils flicker over his face, quickly replacing his skin for his armoured shell before shifting back. "Everything I am is Biomass: my hair, my claws, even my clothes." He chuckled. "Actually, when I 'wear clothes' I actually only shift my upper layers to resemble the material I want to."

Aragorn's jaw suddenly slacked open as his brain tried to comprehend what the Prototype was saying. Galadriel tried very hard not to chuckle, and Alex was aware what just went through the Ranger's brain. "Yes", he deadpanned, "Technically, I am _always_ naked."

Now Aragorn choked once. Alex rolled his eyes. "Get your brain outta the gutter. It's not like I am even male."

"Why are you even telling me that?" Aragorn managed to choke out. "Just to play tricks with my mind?"

"Indeed", Alex admitted. "I just told you that to screw with you. But to be back to the point, I told you that so you won't freak out now." His frame shivered as his system discovered pieces lodged into his Biomass. "Everything I consume is broken down, except for materials not of organic nature, like metal and stones. Material like them I reject from my body, though it is not a very pretty sight, since small pieces tend to stick everywhere. And _that_ means..." He trailed off as he picked up his voice over the sound of his Biomass slurp and slosh violently. "...complete structural degeneration."

Aragorn turned wonderfully green at the sight of the Virus unravelling itself into a nightmarish mass of tentacles without any real shape, and Galadriel screwed her eyebrows up high enough to merge them with her hairline. Alex couldn't concentrate on them though since he focussed, feeling his insides clench around the foreign, indigestible objects lodged inside his body. In the very moment he seized them and ripped them out of his Biomass, he felt how his internal temperature suddenly jumped up. Not even a second after the metal hit the ground with a series of clatters, the viral mass shivered and pulled itself back together, shifting back into a solid shape.

And wow. As Alex rolled his shoulders he realized that he felt incredible. It was like losing aches he didn't even know he had. His entire system was buzzing with excitement and he felt more awake and alert than he did before. It was like he had just pulled a plug in the form of the dreaded Morgul Blade that had slowed him down this entire time before.

"And there it is", Galadriel declared, poking her foot towards the collection of metal on the ground. Alex eyed it, noticing several bullets and bullet fragments, one or two belt buckles, half a MP3 Player, a few coins and a fingernail-sized shard of a sword.

"That's it?" He asked disbelievingly, "This tiny thing gave me one hell of indigestion?"

"Often it is not the large enemies that cause us most trouble", Galadriel pointed out, "Often it is the small mistake that brings down a kingdom." She smiled knowingly before she turned and walked away. "Kind of like a virus, right?"


	12. Farewell to Lórien

**Author: Holy shit, this Chapter rewrite dragged along. Personally, I blame Pokemon and Skyrim, but there's no excuse for not finishing earlier. And to top it off, there are only a few chapters left, namely number 13, 14, 15, 16 and 17, which are already in a better style than the previous chapters, so there isn't so much work left.  
Chapter originally uploaded on 26th February 2016, new version on 5th June 2016.  
**

* * *

Farewell to Lórien

It was late in the night as Frodo slowly walked over the soft forest floor of Caras Galadhon. His head was spinning from what happened just a little while before. He had met the Lady Galadriel near a pedestal with a bowl atop it. The Mirror of Galadriel, she told him.

An artefact that allows its user to see past, present and even the future. But when Frodo had risked a glance inside, he was terrified to see the Shire burning and Orcs enslaving all of his friends. Galadriel, who had seen what he saw in his head, had told him the grim truth, that this was what was going to happen should Sauron get his hands on the Ring.

She also reminded him of his worst fear: That the Ring was trying to break the Fellowship apart.

That one of them was already trying to get it.

She didn't need to say his name out loud for him to know who she meant. She meant Boromir, as the man was the one most lured in by the Ring.

He wasn't the only one, though. Frodo knew that the Ring, that Sauron's whispers, would affect all of his friends sooner or later. He knew he had to get away at some point, leave the Fellowship, break it himself before the Dark Lord could do it. Galadriel had told him to do it, after all.

Well, actually she told him that it was a lonely quest, to take the Ring to Mordor. She also told him to trust nobody with it, not even her, demonstrating by suddenly changing into the image of a terrible warrior queen instead of the gentle Elven Lady for a moment there. Frodo didn't know whether it was real or whether his mind had played tricks on him, but he had to realize that it was his burden to carry the Ring, his alone. And nobody would be there to help him.

"What's eating you?"

Frodo froze at the unfamiliar voice, slowly turning around to find a young woman stand in front of him. Her brows were scrunched together, her red hair pulled together in a pony tail. The Hobbit almost relaxed at her sight, before he abruptly realized that she was _human_ and _he had never seen her before_!

"Who are you?" He asked, backing off startled. Why was nobody coming to help him?

The woman only frowned at him before her face lit up. "Oh, right", she muttered, stepping back a bit. Suddenly a wave of red and black rushed over her body, leaving Frodo stare dumbfounded at the taller shape of Alex Mercer. "I kind of forgot I was doing that", he mumbled, looking actually sheepish. "Since they are all _me_ , I sometimes neglect turning back into my real self."

The Hobbit tried to calm his racing heart down when a very disturbing thought flicked to the front of his mind. That night, when Alex told them about himself, he told them he could only take the shapes of people he devoured. But this woman...she looked barely older than Pippin. A vile thought began worming its way into his brain. This man...plague in a human shell, or whatever...it _ate_ people and took their shape without so much as thinking twice. Not for the first time since the revelation Frodo wondered what was going through the people's heads when they met their untimely end. He knew that he should be scared, that he should try to flee and stay as far as somehow possible away from the creature, yet he just couldn't bring himself to do that.

Alex had shown them over and over again that he genuinely cared about the Fellowship and their allies. He had faced the Nazgûl all by himself on the Weather Top without even knowing about their weapons. He had actively held himself back when he appeared in the shape of this armoured warrior at the River Bruinen, so he would attack the Ringwraith and not him and Arwen. He had continued to protect and help the Fellowship through Moria, even after he accidentally revealed his powers. He had been angry at Haldir, and yet he made no move to hurt him, instead tried to persuade him (though it has been more of a threat than actually persuasion) to help the Fellowship instead of rejecting them.

Wasn't this more than enough to put some more trust into him, even if he was an obviously dangerous entity?

Frodo had the feeling that all he required was someone to trust in him too, so he wouldn't end like the woman he mentioned and loathed so much: Elizabeth Greene.

Still, he felt incredibly sorry for every living being that met its fate as just another face the Plague could wear.

"Who was she?" The Hobbit asked silently. Alex arched his eyebrow, seemingly not following his line of thoughts. "The woman you have been...who was she?"

"Nobody", the man replied. "As in, she never existed to begin with." He shrugged. "You know, for a thing designed to be able to adapt to anything and mutate faster than it can eat a grown man, Blacklight is surprisingly unwilling to work with what it already has." Frodo blinked in confusion, so Alex had to explain it to him. "You know my transformation powers, right? The Claws and the Blade, the Whipfist, the Shield, the Armour, correct? All of these were a mutation, a little change in my body done to my original Claws. But it is surprisingly hard trying to combine two of them, let's say, make a Whipblade or something. The same goes for the people I can transform into. I am trying to combine the traits of those I already have to make a new one, but Blacklight is really stubborn and really does not want to recombine. It would rather take somebody's face than make a whole new one." He paused rolling his shoulders. "I'm trying to make it comply, but it is a slow progress." There was some silence until he tilted his head curiously. "But this isn't about me, right? I was just the last part in a chain of events. What is it?"

"I fear you wouldn't understand", Frodo muttered, though he did sit besides the other.

"Try me."

"I'm afraid", the Ring-Bearer admitted, "I'm afraid that the Ring will take the Fellowship one by one, that Sauron will break us." He sighed. "I'm afraid I can't stay with them, because the Ring will take them all."

"We told you we'd come with you, even into the pits of Hell", Alex replied stubbornly. "And we are going to see that through."

"But the Ring- it will corrupt all of you", Frodo tried to argue.

"So? If you want to, I can stay around and keep an eye on them, so we get to Mordor without any larger troubles."

 _I can hear Sauron from over here, trying to pull me over to his side._

"But you- you said that you can hear his whispers."

"Not anymore", the hooded man pointed out. Frodo was aware he must have had a very confused expression, because Alex was quick to continue. "I could hear him before, though. But that was because I had a shard of that Morgul Blade stuck inside my body." He shrugged. "I got it out a short while ago, and thus severed the link between me and Sauron. He can no longer talk to me."

Frodo blinked, then pulled the Ring out by its chain. "Then, do you want it? Can you carry it to Mordor and cast it into the fire?" He asked, holding it towards the Plague. The effect was immediate, as Alex' entire body flushed over with tendrils and he literally _melted_ and scuttled away, re-forming in a solid shape several feet away from Frodo's position.

"No!" The Wraith hissed, as if it was painful to him. "Get that away!"

The Hobbit had jumped back startled and quickly covered the Ring up once more, though it took Alex several moments to calm down enough.

"I thought...I thought you couldn't hear his whispers anymore?" The Halfling whispered.

"I can't", the Wraith admitted, "But the problem _isn't_ that I _don't_ want to take the Ring."

Frodo gasped, suddenly understanding. "You _want_ to take the Ring, do you?!"

Alex nodded darkly. "About as much as I want to violently murder everything on sight. I can keep both traits very well under control, but having this fucking piece of Bling in my closer vicinity is greatly pushing it." He exhaled coldly before forcing his frame to lean against a tree, though Frodo could still see the stress he went through to remain there. "The Ring greatly enhances its wearer's powers. I want the Ring to increase my strength and abilities, but be serious- do you want a bio-engineered viral weapon of mass destruction to become even _more_ dangerous?"

Frodo shook his head quickly. "Good. Because nobody wants to see that", Alex finished. He went away, but still paused to tousle the Hobbit's hair. "Make sure you destroy that Ring, even if you have to burn yourself. But it has to be eradicated or Middle Earth is going to suffer. You understand this, do you?" Alex turned away, walking back into the depths of Caras Galadhon. "Middle Earth is not supposed to suffer as Manhattan did."

* * *

It was in the early morning hours of the 16th February when the Fellowship had gathered at a branch of the Great River, standing in front of three boats.

Alex scrunched his nose up.

Boats. Why did it have to be boats?

He was aware that it was the fastest way to use the boats to move along the Great River, but that didn't mean that he had to like it.

Blacklight was highly hydrophobic, after all, even when it couldn't be hurt by the liquid. Alex had fallen more than enough times into the East River to know this, and still, the Virus was twisting beneath his skin at the very thought of getting into a boat.

Alex sensed the prod into his ribs more than he actually felt it, so he turned his attention away from the water and back to the man who had just jabbed his elbow into his side. Aragorn nodded his head into the direction of the Elves that stood in front of them, all of them holding grey cloaks.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our people." Celeborn declared as the Elves stepped to the front and put the cloaks around the traveller's shoulders, fastening them with leaf-shaped clasps. "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes."

Alex watched the expression of the Elf who put a cloak around his shoulders. The man didn't show any emotions, but the Prototype could see the tiny crinkle in his forehead and the slightly narrowed eyes that told him that this man was not very happy about being so close to a man-eating artificial life form. Once he had the cloak fastened, he stepped back a little bit quicker than the others and exhaled in relief.

The Prototype inclined his head by a shade, trying to get a feeling for the cloak. It was very light, so he barely felt it, but it did feel foreign on his body. He figured it would make a nice present for Dana once he returns home, though, so he kept it.

By now, Galadriel had stepped to the front, followed by another group of Elf Women.

"May these presents help you on your journey", she declared, drawing their attention, "And may they give you hope in the darkest of times."

She motioned her hand towards Boromir, stepping up to him. She retrieved a golden belt made of chain links and handed it to him. "This belt has been made by the finest gold smiths of Lothlórien. Wear it with your head held high, son of Gondor."

She turned to Merry and Pippin, presenting both of them with a belt and dagger each. "These are the daggers of the Noldorin", she told them. "They have already seen service in war." Galadriel paused, eyeing Pippin. "Do not fear, young Peregrin Took", she told him, "You will find your courage."

Sam looked at her with a frown once he noticed that the Lady was not taking up a dagger. Instead, it was a small grey box and some grey rope. "A Mallorn Seed and Earth from my orchard", the Elf told him, "A gift far more fitting than a weapon of war, don't you think so, gardener?"

"I...uh..." Sam frowned. Galadriel smiled a bit wider before handing him a grey rope. "And take this with you, too: Elven rope, made of hithlain."

The Hobbit frowned. "Thank you, my Lady...Have you run out of those nice shiny daggers?"

"Sometimes it is unimpressive what will help us most in dire need, Samwise. Always remember this."

Sam blinked in surprise before nodding. He was aware that there was a reason he got a rope and not a nice object to stab people with.

Galadriel cleared her throat and turned back to her followers, taking a strange, rod-like object from them. "My gift to you, Legolas", she declared, holding the rod in front of her and jabbing her thumb down. Suddenly there was a loud _crack_ as two arms snapped up on either side of the rod, pulling a bow string taut. Legolas gasped at the sight of the object: It was curved, with two pulleys on either end.

"It is..." the Elf whispered, "A bow?"

"A collapsible bow", Alex declared proudly. "Better, a compound, made of several layers of steel-like meshes with several flexible ones, combined with a bowstring of Elven Hair. You can use it as a club, if necessary. On short distances, it will even punch through Orc armour like it was made of paper."

Legolas blinked and turned to the Prototype. "You made this weapon?"

"Well, Gimli and I did, and the Elf weapon smiths helped a lot too. We figured it was a good weapon for you, seeing as you are royally fucked when the Orcs come at you with armour plates." His eyes narrowed at the Elves. "Of course, I already had Gimli so far that we were going to build you an _assault rifle_ , but these guys here weren't so happy with my weapon of choice."

Legolas turned the bow over in his hands and pulled the string back before beaming at the Virus. "I am most grateful to you!"

"You're welcome"

The Elf Lady had turned to Aragorn meanwhile, handing him a dagger. "I have no greater gift for you, other than this Elvish Blade", she informed him. "For the greatest gift is the one you already bear." Her tone trailed off as she slowly moved her hand over the pendant the Ranger was wearing. " _Am meleth dîn. I ant e-guil Arwen Undómiel…pelitha."_

The Ranger only nodded his head, but didn't answer. Alex was aware that they spoke about Arwen and that the Elf woman would not live for long should Sauron get more strength. He and Aragorn had talked about this once, so to Alex it was just another reason to stomp the Dark Lord into the nearest curb, while to Aragorn it was another reason to worry.

The Lady had moved towards Frodo, handing him a Phial filled with water. "Farewell, Frodo Baggins", she told him, "I give you the light of Eärendil, our most beloved star. May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out."

She leaned down and kissed the Hobbit on the forehead, before she turned to the Prototype with her face perfectly blank. "I have not discovered what gift can be given to you, Blacklight", she told him. There was a short pause when Galadriel thought for a moment. "Now, you claimed you had no memories of your old life, of the man you once were. Yet they are still inside your head. I can help you regain them."

Alex furrowed his brows. "No thanks", he replied. "I don't know who the real Mercer was, but I know he was a sociopathic egoistical bastard. I don't want any of his memories or anything that _was_ Alex Mercer. I'm not him, so why should I want his memories?" He glanced at the Fellowship. "If I get them back though, then it is going to be because I managed to access them myself, but not because I took the fast lane." His eyes met Galadriel's. "But if there is something you can give me, it would be to get me back home once Sauron's defeated."

The Elf Lady smiled widely. "Then you have learnt much already, Blacklight. Not knowing your past was painful to you, yet you don't ask for it, to spare those around you from the hatred of the man you once were." Suddenly she moved to the front and pressed a kiss against Alex' cheek, completely ignoring the other Elves' startled outcries. Alex had gone very stiff and silent as his brain frantically tried to figure out what was going on.

"See?" The lady said, stepping back. "I'm not afraid of you, despite which kin you belong to. Deep down you are one of the most selfless men I have ever met, even if you believe it otherwise. Your fate is tied to the Ring, though it is not necessary for you to follow it. Just stay true to yourself, and you will be able to return to the one you love."

Alex didn't say anything to her as Galadriel moved away, since he was too busy trying to understand what just happened. His cheek was tingling, quickly consuming the DNA the Lady had left to generously, while the woman moved towards the last of the Fellowship.

"And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?" Galadriel asked, watching Gimli. The Dwarf had his head lowered and was mumbling more to himself than to the Elf Lady. "Nothing." He turned to walk off, but stopped suddenly, turning back to face her again. "Except...to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth."

The Prototype arched his brows, glancing at the Dwarf. Didn't he warn the Hobbits about a month ago about the _Elven Witch_ living in these woods? Galadriel really had some special abilities to persuade even the most stubborn Dwarf.

Gimli's face suddenly lit up. "Actually", he began, fidgeting his fingers. "There was one thing..." he trailed off before shaking his head. "Ah, that's quite impossible. Stupid to ask."

* * *

" _Hair_? Really, Gimli?" Alex asked as the Fellowship was preparing their boats for travel. The Dwarf glared at him darkly while the Prototype continued to rant. "I mean, you already got so much, why ask for _more hair_?"

Gimli snorted. "It is not something you understand. But I was moved by her beauty that I wished for nothing more than a single strand of hair. She gave me _three_!" His eyes turned distant. "I shall encase them in the finest crystal to remind me of her beauty."

Alex frowned in confusion, even as he put the packs the Fellowships had been given into the boats, though he did move extremely careful to prevent them from capsizing. It would suck if he tumbled into _water_.

"Lembas!" Legolas called out in delight, picking up a small package from the bags. "Elvish way-bread", he explained, nibbling off a corner of the bread. "One small bite is enough is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man."

"How?" Alex wondered out loud. "Is it so nutritious?"

"It is", Legolas claimed. "And wrapped up like this, it stays fresh for a very long time." He tilted his head curiously. "Is this unfamiliar to you?"

"I prefer quantity over quality", the Prototype shrugged. "You know, a grown man or maybe three. Speaking of which..." He frowned at the horizon. "I do hope we'll find Orcs soon. I haven't consumed anything for the past four weeks. Except for that rabbit a week back."

"You are in luck, Blacklight", Celeborn said with furrowed brows. Aragorn looked at him curiously. "Every league you travel further south, the danger will increase", The Elf Lord explained darkly. "Mordor Orcs now hold the eastern shore of the Anduin. Nor will you find safety on the western shore. Strange creatures bearing the mark of the White Hand have been seen on our borders. Seldom do Orcs journey in the open, under the sun, yet these have done so."

"Saruman's foul craft", Aragorn growled lowly.

Celeborn nodded. "By river you have the chance of outrunning the enemy to the Fall of Rauros."

"I dearly hope so", the Ranger admitted. He watched Boromir lift Merry and Pippin into the boat, bracing himself against the swaying underground. Sam was climbing into the one shared by Legolas and Gimli, trying to stay steady.

Frodo was scampering into the third one, the one Aragorn and Alex were going to use.

Alex scowled at the innocent vehicle sitting on the river. Technically, he would be able to ride in it. He wasn't very heavy at the moment, so the boat wouldn't sink.

It was just that they were going to be stuck in the middle of _water_.

Besides him, Aragorn was grinning. Alex shot him a heated glare before he carefully stepped into the grey boat, balancing himself and sitting down on the bench, drawing his knees towards his chest in a desperate attempt to _not_ freak out.

Aragorn was trying to hide that his companion's displeasure was amusing him greatly, but he was failing wonderfully.

With a soft splash, the Ranger dipped his paddle into the river and began to steer the boat away, closely followed by the other two.

As the Fellowship pulled away, the Elves of Lothlórien sang their good-byes, waving at them until they vanished behind the mist and trees.

* * *

It was the second day after their departure from Lothlórien. The boats were gliding along the river, but neither of the Fellowship dared to utter a single word. They were being followed, and they knew it well.

Alex scowled deeply at the forest on the side, but also Legolas was watching closely.

"Orcs", the Elf declared. He was silent enough so the Orcs couldn't hear him, but the others could. "Stronger and more resilient than those we encountered until now."

"Those must be the ones Saruman has bred", Aragorn grumbled, "Those Lord Celeborn had warned us about. They are following us."

"I wonder why", Pippin wondered.

"I'm sure it is pretty obvious, but let's find out what they know, okay?" Alex suggested. He slowly stood up, bracing himself on the boat, while ignoring their questioning glances. Luckily, Elven boats couldn't capsize so easily (Elven Physics!), but the Prototype was still uncomfortable with changing his center of mass.

"What are you planning?" Frodo asked uncomfortably.

"Get one of these guys over here to talk", the virus claimed when his right arm shivered and shifted into the Whipfist. Alex paused, turning the appendage over and eyeing it curiously. It felt hotter against his side, and its overall appearance had changed slightly. It looked sleeker, the two middle claws had fused into one small blade and it was dotted with bioluminescent spots along the three veins that made up the whip.

"Huh", Alex mumbled as he glanced at the fiery orange spots decorating his Whipfist. "This is new."

"What is new? This form? Didn't you use this one against the Orc scouts?" Boromir wondered.

"The shiny parts are new", was the reply. "It also looks different to the original Whipfist, and it kind of feels...lighter." He flexed the claws one more time before shrugging. "Let's find out what it can do."

He pulled the Whipfist back and coiled the Biomass within, mentally targeting one of the Orcs that ran along the river bank, hidden from their eyes by the thick foliage.

The tendril shot to the front at a startling speed, trailing a fiery red line as it unravelled to great lengths, crossing the several dozen of feet distance within the blink of an eye and way too fast for the Orcs to react in time.

The barbed tentacle broke through the targeted creature's chest, fully ignoring the thick steel-plated armour. The Orc gargled in surprise, while the others quickly dashed into the underbrush and away from the river.

Alex smirked before he yanked the Whipfist back and pulled the Orc towards him, though he was mindful to keep his balance as to not accidentally sink the boat.

The Orc struggled despite the grievous wound in its stomach, trying to free itself and get away from the Prototype, but then its body jerked violently as tendrils snapped through its skin. With a series of cracking and slurping noises, the Orc's body was broken down and swiftly absorbed into the Blacklight carrier.

He did notice that the Fellowship made a series of gagging and retching noises at the sight of this.

Right. They've never seen his method of feeding up close.

Looks like they were going to need some psychological help there.

However, at the moment Alex didn't feel any regrets. He has barely eaten anything in the past weeks, so this one Orc was a more than welcome meal. Also, he was going to give him information. Information the Fellowship was going to need.

 _ **Web of Intrigue  
Uruk-Hai Ghamorz  
**_ _Lurtz is the first of us, the first that has been born through the Master's magic. Master had made all of us deep beneath the Black Tower, made us stronger and more resistant towards the cursed sun. We will no longer fear the sun, we will not tire when we hunt for our prey. Master told us to hunt for Halflings and kill everybody who is with them. I will find those Halflings and I will take them to the Master, be the new favourite, not Lurtz.  
We have discovered the Halflings. But there are almost a hand of them! Lurtz said that only one has what the Master wants, but which one? I can't carry all of them, but maybe I can kill the other brothers who carry the Halflings. We just have to wait till nightfall..._

Boromir's disgusted shout dragged the Prototype back out of the memories of his latest victim. "Did you really have to feed upon the Orc? Was that really necessary?" The Gondorian yelled, nearly dropping his paddle.

Alex frowned at him, shifting his arm back into its normal shape. Wasn't it kind of obvious why he just did that?

"It was necessary", the Prototype gave back irritated, carefully balancing himself on the boat. "Now I know what they know. Their Master made them beneath a black tower- Orthanc, most likely. These guys do not fear the sun or get exhausted soon. They were told to hunt us, kill every last of us, but not the Halflings." He glanced at the forest as he slowly lowered himself back into his seat. "They were told that one of the Halflings has something their Master wants, and they are going to get it. Sound familiar?"

Aragorn swore under his breath. "So Saruman knows who carries the Ring", he concluded, thrusting his paddle into the river with so much force that water sprayed everywhere. "This is dangerous." He paused, then turned his attention to Alex. "Alex, once we stopped for the night, I want you to take care that no Orc gets close to us. Stay as close as possible to prevent them from ambushing us, but you can kill to your heart's desire."

The Virus blinked, believing for a solid second that his mind had snapped and he was hearing things, but he quickly realized that the Ranger meant what he said. Alex' lips peeled away from his teeth in a nightmarish grin. "Of course."

* * *

It was getting darker. The Fellowship had pulled their boats up on the gravely beach of an island in the middle of the Anduin, hoping to get some rest. Aragorn, Alex and Boromir were watching the river, where a piece of driftwood floated by. Pale hands were grasping the wood.

"Gollum", Aragorn mumbled. "He has tracked us since Moria."

"He's good", Alex noticed.

"I had hoped we would lose him on the river" the Ranger pointed out, "But he's too clever a waterman."

"And if he alerts the enemy to our whereabouts, it will make the crossing even more dangerous", Boromir growled.

"They already know where we are", Alex claimed, nodding his head into the direction of the forest on the river. "Whether or not Gollum tells them."

"This is folly", Boromir seethed.

"Maybe", the Prototype shrugged, pulling away. "I'm going to do a quick check of my claws before I get over there. Somebody has to tell these Orcs to fuck off."

"Don't stray too far", Aragorn reminded him, "Stay close enough so Legolas can still see you."

"No problem" The Virus moved away, shifting back to the Whipfist. He glanced at the orange glowing spots along the talon when he noticed Frodo just sitting there, staring at the river.

Sam was approaching him. "Have some food, Mister Frodo."

The other Hobbit shook his head. "No Sam"

"You haven't eaten anything", Sam argued. "You're not sleeping either. Don't think I haven't noticed. Mister Frodo..."

Frodo cut him off. "I'm all right"

"You're not", Alex threw in with a frown. "You're almost the same level of a wreck Blackwatch commanders were two weeks after the infection started. Just that you know, those were the guys I usually _ate_ to get access to their bases." He pointed his Whipfist at the Hobbit. "And you, you look almost the same as them. Stop worrying, okay? You are over thinking the entire situation, and that isn't healthy."

Sam nodded. "You can't get sick, Mister Frodo. I promised Gandalf I would help, and I will!"

Alex jerked his claw over his shoulder. "And don't think too much about these fuckers. I'm going to take care of them. So you just eat something and get some sleep, for God's sake."

He didn't wait for a response as he walked away, past the sleeping Merry and Pippin and over to where Legolas and Gimli were. They watched him as he walked to the center of the island and flexed his Whipfist. He pulled his arm back and shot the bladed end to the front, splitting a boulder neatly in half. He watched the fiery lines the claw trailed after it as it shot through the air, he marvelled at the speed and increased strength of the weapon, while also enjoying the additional warmth it gave his body.

He wasn't entirely sure what caused the sudden mutation in his genome, though he could risk a guess. He had been injured by a Morgul Blade, with a piece of it remaining inside his Biomass for far longer than he would have liked to. In the effort to halt the poison's spread, his body had evolved further, though the changes didn't become visible until after he had removed the shard. He did remember the sudden rise in his internal temperature when he had the shard dislocated from his Biomass.

Well, Galadriel's genetic makeup might have been another reason. Alex wondered if he could combine Elf DNA with his own code to make it more resistant. Since Elves were immortal, they must have some really awesome regenerative properties. He asked himself whether Galadriel had been aware of this when she kissed him.

"What are you thinking about?" Legolas asked.

"Nothing much", the Prototype gave back, "Or at least not something you'd understand without the proper background on DNA and genetic re-combination."

Legolas blinked. "It is about the changed that happened to your claw, isn't it?" He pointed at the glowing spots. "It didn't look like this when you fought the Orcs."

"Looks like you do have some ideas", Alex admitted. "Yeah. I was wondering where the mutations come from. Normally I get new abilities by taking them off my prey, but aside from becoming resistant to Bloodtox, I didn't really change much."

He paused, frowning at his Whipfist before willing it to change. He watched how it melted away, along with his other arm and turned into a bulkier variation of his Musclemass, though they only had three fingers and were completely made of tendrils.

He inclined his head curiously, flexing the fingers when he realized that his palms literally unravelled. These limbs weren't made of solid flesh like his other weapons, but rather were very flexible and malleable. Alex turned to a piece of driftwood sitting on the shore of the island, focussing on it before he twitched his shoulders. Immediately, his arms dissolved into three massive tentacles each which quickly latched onto the wood and dragged it back towards him. Legolas made a startled gasp as the tentacles crushed the rotted wood to splinters.

"Those things remind me of the water monster that attacked", Gimli pointed out helpfully. "Bah, it was a really ugly thing."

"I believe you are right", Alex stated as he shifted the tendrils a bit, trying to get a feeling for them. "I can tell you that did not have them in Manhattan. And I didn't have them here until I tried to eat the squid thing." He chuckled. "Well, I did manage to get a bite out of it anyways. Guess that was enough to get a new ability."

He shifted to the Claws, noticing that they too had orange veins and were lighter. The claws themselves looked even sharper, but had serrated edges, akin to a combat knife. He swiped them through the air experimentally, noting that they have gotten faster. They were also trailing orange fiery lines after them for a short moment.

The same went for the Blade. It was lighter, more aerodynamically and shaped slightly differently, allowing for faster and more powerful blows. It was great to have his favourite weapon be even faster and deadlier.  
He shifted to the Musclemass. The grey scaled arms had become darker, and the same veins stood out against the flesh. The bone that protruded from his elbow had sharpened to a point. Alex smirked. He had always enjoyed ripping Blackwatch apart with those paws, and now he could stab them into oblivion using his elbows.  
He transformed them into the Hammerfists, feeling the familiar weight pull him over in a hunch. Their knuckles were now adorned with small spikes and massive tubes were now connecting the arms to his shoulders.

"Did you get those off the Troll?" Legolas asked, "For they appear like Troll hands."

"I had them before", Alex explained. "I call them 'Hammerfists'. They're great for pulping everything in a ten-yard-radius. If I take a jump off a building first, I can easily triple the area of destruction, though most of the time I just use them as tools to break down doors. Or walls."  
He shifted to the Shield, noting that it too has gotten sturdier, but also lighter. And, as he quickly figured out, he could create a second shield on his other arm now, allowing for a greater protection.

The last thing he did was to pull his Armour over his body. Legolas made a startled gasp and Gimli did nearly drop his pipe in surprise. Alex risked a glance down his form, realizing that his shell now featured more spikes and nightmarish glowing orange areas along the joints and his abdomen, which did make him look even more like a demon than the original shell.

Behind his face plate, he was grinning. Intimidation was a key strategy when fighting a group of enemies, and his new appearance would cause them to wet their pants before he even started mincing.

"Alright then", the virus exclaimed as he dismissed the protective layer in a flurry of tendrils. "Time to test them under real battle conditions. I'm going to mess up a few Orcs now."

"Don't stray too far", Legolas reminded him. "I would not put it past these Orcs to try to ambush us from the river if you became distracted by them."

"Don't worry", the Prototype replied, "I won't let anybody closer than fifteen feet to you."

He cracked his neck before he ducked low and charged right towards the edge of the island. With one powerful leap, he crossed the hated water and landed on the other side, where he immediately dove into the underbrush to target the Orcs that hid there.

* * *

"Minas Tirith is the safer road", Boromir claimed, glancing at Aragorn. "You know it. From there we can regroup...strike out for Mordor from a place of strength!"

"There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us", Aragorn replied with a tense voice.

"You were quick enough to trust the Elves! You were quick enough to trust the Blacklight!" Boromir snapped back, though he was aware that he picked up his voice a bit too much, so he quickly lowered it again, though it didn't really matter since there were Orcs roaring in the background and one or two trees toppled during the unseen skirmish at the river's side.

"Have you so little faith in your people?" Aragorn only exhaled and rolled his eyes, not wanting to go through this again when Boromir continued: "Yes, there is weakness", he admitted, "There is frailty, but there is courage also, and honour found in Men! But you will not see that!" Aragorn didn't want to listen to the Gondorian's speech again, so he turned and was about to go away when Boromir suddenly seized his arm and turned him back to face him. "You are afraid!" He accused him. "All your life, you have hidden in the shadows! Scared of who you are, what you are!"

Aragorn jerked his arm free and stepped back with a scowl. He did not like the way Boromir was talking to him. He knew what was expected of him, he knew of his fate, but he didn't want to have it on his shoulders. He knew how desperate Boromir was, he was aware that the people of Gondor needed guidance, but he wasn't going to be the one giving it to them.

Darkness was in the White City, one that he wasn't going to risk. "I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city!" He declared with a fierce voice.

Boromir opened his mouth to argue, but a heavy impact suddenly shook the entire island, startling the Hobbits awake and making the others whirl around.

Luckily, it was Alex, who had returned. He was just casually brushing off his pant legs, cleaning them from the dust of the rocky beach when he approached them.

"I think Boromir's right, though", he pointed out. "It would be best to get to Minas Tirith. You know, protection, resources, a place to sleep safely, people to hide behind when shit hits the fan. If none of you blabbers about the Ring, we should be safe there."

"How do you know of what we spoke of here?" Aragorn asked sharply.

"I have pretty good ears", Alex pointed out with a shrug.

"You would head to the White City?" Boromir wanted to know with some hope in his voice.

"I think it would be the best course of action", the Plague in the shape of a man agreed. "Also, in that way we can force Sauron to keep an eye on us, make him understand that he is messing with the wrong people."

"We cannot risk the Ring's safety", Aragorn argued. "There are too many prying eyes in Minas Tirith, too many people."

"Then perhaps we need a two-pronged approach?" Alex suggested. "A small groups sneaks into Mordor while a larger group distracts Sauron from Minas Tirith?"

"I fear this will only end poorly." Aragorn shook his head. "Eyes on the target first. We need to reach the old Watchtower of the Amon Hen before we will make a decision, is that acceptable?"

Boromir frowned for a good few seconds before exhaling and dropping his shoulders. "Fine", he grumbled.

"Good" The Ranger turned to the Virus. "What news do you bring?"

"I managed to drive the Uruk-Hai off", Alex explained, "Killed about ten of them, but the others managed to get away, since I wasn't supposed to chase them down. They're going to keep following us though." He nodded towards the boats. "I'm going to stay on the shore starting tomorrow, keep them at a distance. Aragorn, take care you have Sam with you and Frodo and keep an eye on him, will you?"

"I will."

* * *

It was the early evening of the 25th of February when the Fellowship came across a strait in the otherwise wide River Anduin. The river had become narrower gradually during the day with the cliffs on either side had began towering higher and higher above them.

Occasionally, they would catch a glimpse of their hooded companion at the very top of the cliffs, or watching them while crouching on the wall itself.

Aragorn noticed Boromir glancing over to Frodo and him. The Gondorian had barely exchanged words with him ever since that argument several days back, but the Ranger was aware of what was going on inside the man's head. He knew Boromir only wanted to best for his people, but he also knew that getting the Ring to Minas Tirith was easily the most foolish thing to do. He sighed in defeat. He wondered how exactly he was supposed to get this into the other man's thick skull.

The water picked up speed and Aragorn could already hear the faint roar of the Fall of Rauros.

He craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of what was ahead, and once he saw the shadow of a huge hand, he patted Frodo's shoulder, pointing at the giant statures that suddenly slipped into view from behind the bend in the river. "Frodo, the Argonath!" He whispered. Frodo peeked up, staring at the massive figure. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin."

He could hear the gasps coming from the Fellowship as they gazed upon the giant statues that depicted Isildur and his father Elendil, the great Kings from the time of War. Each of them stood at least a hundred and sixty feet, holding out their left arms as a sign of warning while holding a giant sword with the right. Their expressions were grim, but proud and they did withstand wind and weather for eons. Like mankind itself, Aragorn mused, no matter how hard the situation got, they always somehow managed to thrive. He even heard of rumours of people who lived in Mordor once, defying darkness and Orcs.

Boromir smiled when the Fellowship passed the mighty Argonath in silence. They had reached the territory of mankind now, the outer areas of Gondor. Aragorn felt a bit sorry for his fellow Man for he had to stay away from his people for so long. If he wished to return to Minas Tirith, then the Ranger wasn't going to stop him.

Aragorn noticed a black figure stand in the old quarry at the foot of Elendil, so he turned his focus on him. Alex stood there, staring in awe at the giant statues before noting the Fellowship. He lifted his hand in a wave before quickly climbing back up the cliffs to the heads of the Kings.

They lost sight of him though as the Fellowship slipped through the strait and soon reached the large lake Nen Hithoel on the other side. Mist rose up from its end, showing where the lake was emptying itself through the Falls of Rauros.

"We will rest at the shore beneath the Amon Hen!" Aragorn called out when the sky darkened, directing his boat towards the shore close to the falls. "And tomorrow we will head for Mordor."

His proposal was met with enthusiasm. After such a long time of sitting in a boat- whether Elvish craft or not- did make their backside sore.

As the boats were drawn onto the shore, a familiar crunching noise drew Aragorn's attention. Alex appeared with a thoughtful look on his face. "No Uruks. No Orcs. Hell, even _Gollum_ is keeping his distance" he explained as his way of greeting. "Something stinks."

"Aren't you sure that they aren't just scared of you?" Gimli questioned. "You did tear through their ranks quite mercilessly."

"Maybe. Maybe not" the hooded man shrugged. "Though I'm gonna keep an eye open for them."

"As will we", Legolas claimed. "We shall take turns watching through the night."

"That's fine by me", Boromir claimed.

"And I'm hungry", Pippin declared. "Let's eat!"

* * *

The next morning Alex had left very early to patrol the area. Aragorn was discussing with Gimli about the possible path they were going to take, while the Hobbits were having Breakfast.

"Hide the boats and continue on foot", The Ranger ordered the Fellowship. "We approach Mordor from the north."

"Oh yes?" Gimli quipped sarcastically, "It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil?" He scoffed. "An impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks!" He lifted his finger to cut off Aragorn's reply. "And after that it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshland, far as the eye can see!"

Pippin looked up in alarm while Aragorn crossed his arms. "That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength then, Master Dwarf."

"Recover my-" Gimli cut himself off with a series of grumbling noises.

"We should leave now", Legolas declared with worry in his voice.

"No", Aragorn claimed, "Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for the cover of darkness."

"It is not the eastern shore that worries me", the Elf pointed out. "A shadow and threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near...I can feel it."

 _*THUD*_

The Elf flinched and whirled around, only to find Alex extract himself from an impact crater in the ground before he sauntered towards them.

"It's just Alex", Gimli said, "Don't worry, Elf Princeling. He's of the darkness maybe, but he's on our side."

The Plague in the shape of a man suddenly stopped, piercing blue eyes scanning the area with a scrutinizing glare.

"Guys?" He asked. "Where the fuck is Frodo?"

Aragorn froze and whipped around, his eyes settled on an empty sleeping bag.

"Not only Frodo", he breathed, "Where is Boromir?"


	13. Amon Hen

**Author: Original uploaded on 29th February 2016, New Version on 16th June 2016.  
I want to apologize for the delay, since there are too many plot bunnies in my head which I have to write down before I can abandon them.**

* * *

Amon Hen

Frodo was panting as he continued running through the shrouds of the shadow world. He could hear Boromir's shouts far behind him, begging for his forgiveness. His voice was a mixture between rage and utter despair.

But Frodo wouldn't turn around.

He wouldn't return to the Gondorian, not after what happened just a few moments before.

The Ring had taken Boromir. It had corrupted him, turned him against the Hobbit. The Man had tried to take the Ring away, claiming it would help them against Mordor when in truth he only wanted it for himself. Since he was so strong, Frodo had no other choice but to put it on and escape.

He didn't want to have to resort to this, since it attracted the Nazgûl the last time he used it, but he couldn't stay here or else the Ring would taint them all. He didn't want to see his friends fall into darkness, so Frodo fled.

Boromir's wails were lost in the forest the Hobbit ran through, but he knew he couldn't stop here. He kept on running.

He ran and ran until he reached the top of the mountain, where the ruins of a watchtower stood.

He felt oddly reminded of the Weather Top, but at least it was day.

' _And the Nazgûl have been washed away by Arwen, haven't they?'_

The Hobbit didn't bother wasting his thoughts on such unpleasant memories as he scrambled up a set of stairs. He only wanted to catch his breath and get his mind back together. He had to get away from the Fellowship, even if it meant to break it. He had to get away and to Mordor on his own.

He had no idea how that was supposed to work, since he had no idea how to do this, but he was determined to not let any of the others get the Ring.

He felt the Ring pull on his body suddenly, dragging him to the East. Frodo turned reluctantly, watching with a start how the land raced past him. In panic, he flung himself to his stomach and clawed his fingers into the walls of the Watch Tower as the lands shot past him at an alarming speed. The dark grey clouds of the Wraith World were swirling past him, causing his stomach to make a wild flip as he watched the area fly past. He could see a white city shoot past in a blur before everything turned dark and he found himself hurling towards a giant black tower.

The flight did slow down a bit as Frodo watched the image descent towards the top of the black spire, only to shrink back in terror as the mighty fiery eye of Sauron glared at him in surprise for a second.

And then the Dark Lord Spoke. His voice was a low hiss, rattling Frodo's bones. The Hobbit backed away in panic as the eye continued to come closer, its lidless pupil narrowing on him. He didn't want Sauron to see him, didn't want to hear his voice inside his head. He fumbled around, managing to grasp the Ring while also stumbling back.

Suddenly the floor ended and Frodo found himself in free-fall. He hit the ground hard a startling second later, knocking the air out of his lungs. He blinked at the clear sky, trying to get his brain working. He had fallen off the building he was on...did he? He blinked again, watching the clear sky that was no longer washed over with grey clouds.

Clear?

His eyes widened in realization. He was no longer in the Wraith World! Sauron could no longer see him!

Relief began flooding over him and he exhaled, but the relief he felt turned into a flood of cold dread quickly.

The Ring? Where was the Ring?!

The Hobbit scrambled to his feet, looking around frantically for the Ring. It had to be around here somewhere! It can't have gone far!

Suddenly he stiffened in panic as he actually _felt_ rather than actually saw the second presence that had arrived.

Slowly, he turned his head and witnessed in terror as a pale hand with long fingers picked up the Ring. _'I want the Ring to increase my strength and abilities, but be serious- do you want a bio-engineered weapon of mass destruction to become even more dangerous?'_

Alex lifted the Ring to his face, glancing at it dispassionately, while jamming a torch he brought with him into the crumbling wall and putting a flask on the edge. There weren't any emotions on his face as he eyed the golden band, but Frodo wasn't going to take any chances. He has told him he wanted the Ring for himself as well, so he had to get it back. But how was he supposed to do that? Maybe he could talk to him? Frodo swallowed hard, forcing himself to form words.

"Give it back", he demanded with a shaking voice.

"Mhm?" The plague with the face of a man turned his icy blue eyes on him with his brows scrunched together as if trying to figure out what the Hobbit just told him. Frodo shrank back a bit as the man's glare slowly moved across his form. "No"

The Hobbit's breathing hitched in terror. There was no way he could hope to get the Ring back from _Alex_.

The plague in the shape of a man lifted the Ring to glare at it before a single tentacle slipped from his sleeve and curled around the metal band. Instantly, there was something of a shockwave that raced across his body, forcing him on one knee. His lips peeled away from his teeth and his eyes flashed crimson as the creature struggled to keep in control. Frodo nearly jumped back when Alex' entire body started to writhe angrily. Tendrils lashed out of his skin and curled in on themselves, before several of these tentacles slammed into the ground around him and began...twisting the very soil he knelt upon.

Frodo had no ideas about diseases and plagues, but even he was aware of how they worked, how they spread from one person to another- but this, this was all kinds of wrong. In sheer panic he watched how red and black flesh began to grow all around the sentient disease, swallowing up anything they came in contact with. He witnessed how a large beetle tried to scuttle away, only to be impaled by what has been a blade of grass before and changed into a twitching mass of red and black.

' _I want the Ring to increase my strength and abilities'_ This was his ability? To spread...whatever disease he was? Have it take over everything?

He made a sound of disgust as a single tendril wrapped around his ankle in curiosity. However, before it could harm him, it froze, suddenly jerking back when its master gave a loud growl that turned Frodo's attention back to him.

"No", Alex ground out, "You listen here, you piece of shit!"

The Hobbit blinked in confusion, but kept his distance. He was sure that Alex wasn't talking to him. His unsettling eyes were focused on a point somewhere far away and he was panting harshly (he never breathes, so this was a pure force of habit, Frodo noticed) as he struggled against something unseen.

' _Sauron!'_ Frodo thought with a start. _'Sauron is talking to him!'_

"I don't-" Alex snarled, "Don't fucking care for power!" He paused, eyes closing for a moment. "FUCKING SHUT YER GOB!" He suddenly roared out loud enough for Frodo to jump back. The tendrils that had been crawling across the floor before suddenly smashed into the ruins of the Amon Hen, tearing large holes. "I DON'T FUCKING CARE WHO YOU ARE! I DON'T FUCKING CARE WHAT YOU CAN OFFER ME! I WILL KILL YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! YOU HEAR ME?!"

His voice took a nightmarish tone, like it was mingled with dozens of other voices as red flesh began growing on the walls and the ground. "THE ONLY THING I WANT IS YOUR FUCKING HEAD ON A SILVER PLATTER AND YOUR ARMIES CRUSHED BENEATH MY HEEL! YOU TRIED TO TAKE CONTROL OF ME AGAINST MY WILL, YOU SORRY PIECE OF SHIT!"

Frodo stared at him as the shape of the man flickered with red and black, blurring his body for several seconds to resemble his real appearance more before it settled again. He slowly stood up, growling enraged. Frodo gasped at the sight of the hand that held the Ring was a twisting, grating mass of red flesh and chitinous spikes. The flesh was crawling slowly towards his shoulder, while black tendrils snapped out and tried to push it back. It was as if Alex' own body was attacking itself.

The flesh covering a large part of the ruins began to pulse and bloat into large pustules that continued to grow. Alex must have noticed it too, as his face was twisted in an angry scowl at the sight of his own flesh trying to take over. Still, he didn't turn his attention away from the Dark Lord, even when his other arm began to angrily shift as well, forming the shape of the giant Blade. "NOTHING WILL PROTECT YOU FROM ME!" He roared at the unseen Dark Lord. "NOT MEN! NOT WEAPONS! NOT ARMOUR!" He smashed his hand into the wall of the ruins where flesh snapped out and sought to grasp him. "I'LL COME FOR YOU, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" He roared "AND I WILL END YOU!"

He cut the connection. Literally.

Without so much as to flinch, his Blade cut through his own shoulder, separating the arm that grasped the Ring from his body. The limb continued twitching violently; shifting its shape as it struggled to free itself from the wall it was embedded in.

Frodo gagged at the sight of the mass of flesh starting to transform into _something_... something _alive_. Something that still held onto the Ring.

Something that still tried to flee.

Alex growled low and jabbed his blade into the wall and right through the thing that had been his arm before, impaling it and glaring at it with hatred, before he flung it to the ground, where it squirmed in pain.

It didn't manage to flee before Alex stomped down on it, stunning it just long enough for him to retrieve the flask he brought with him and dump its contents on the thing.

It was a clear fluid, but Frodo didn't know what it was until the living plague dropped the torch on it. In an instant, it all caught fire and the mass of flesh that had swallowed the Ring squealed once in pain before going limp, burning quickly.

"Frodo", Alex grunted, drawing the Hobbit's attention away from the fire. "Take that fucking piece of Bling. Chuck it into the Doom Volcano." He glared at the flames licking on the fleshy matter that had grown everywhere before he lifted his foot again and stomped onto the fire a few times until it had been reduced to a pile of ash and embers. "I don't want to see that thing anymore."

"What did just happen?!" Frodo asked terrified, watching in horror how the entire fleshy substance on the walls was pulled back into Alex' body.

"I took the Ring", the plague replied. "And it tried to corrupt me." He glared at the ashes on the ground and continued before the Hobbits could ask. "Every part of me, even the tiniest part is _sentient_ , Frodo. Even only a small piece of me has its own mind. I _am_ a collection of thousands of different minds, with Alex Mercer being the strongest." He growled, glaring at the golden shimmer of the Ring that peeked through the ashes. "So I when I took the Ring, parts of me wanted to keep it, to promote the spread of Blacklight to become more powerful. But I wouldn't let them. I sliced them off, so they were no longer connected to me, then I killed them before they could become a threat."

"But why? Why did you take it then?"

Alex turned to watch the Hobbit, his eyes glowing under his hood. "Didn't you figure it out now, Frodo? I had to, so I could reach Sauron directly. I threatened that asshole. I drew his gaze away from you. He's gonna look for me now, but not for you. It's your job to destroy the Ring, mine to keep his gaze on me", Alex snorted.

Frodo stared at him with wide eyes, trying to comprehend what he just said. "You...risked turning mad...you cut off your own arm...so you could draw Sauron away from me?"

"That's what I wanted. Frodo. You have to destroy that Ring. Use the distraction I've made, use Sauron's confusion about me to slip by unnoticed."

"But what about your arm?"

"I had worse", the plague shrugged. His shoulder twitched and tentacles snapped outwards, reforming his arm and the sleeve in an instant as if nothing happened.

"It was quite dramatic", Strider's voice claimed. Frodo whirled around in surprise as the Ranger strode up to them, glancing at the ash on the ground. Frodo's heart hitched again. Alex was one thing. He had just proved that he had an interest in the Ring, though he wasn't about to take it again, but what about Strider? He could be taken by the Sauron just as easy as Boromir was.

"It has taken Boromir", Frodo stated with panic in his voice. He dove towards the pile of ashes and grabbed the Ring from it, then scrambled backwards and away from either of the men.

Strider looked at him puzzled, stepping towards him, but Frodo scrambled back further.

"Stay away!"

Strider paused, frowning. "I swore to protect you", he told him.

' _Boromir did too'_ Frodo swallowed hard. "Can you protect me from yourself?" He held the Ring on his palm in plain view. "Would you destroy it?"

The Ranger paused, eyeing the Ring for a very long moment during which the Hobbit feared that he might try to make a move towards it. Then Strider exhaled slowly, and knelt down next to him, gently closing his fingers around Frodo's hand to close it around the Ring. "I would have gone with you to the end, into the very fires of Mordor", he said softly.

Frodo swallowed, blinking back the tears in his eyes. "I know", he whispered, stepping back. He had to leave the Fellowship, "Look after the others, especially Sam", he told the Ranger "He will not understand."

Suddenly there was a low growl. "Frodo", Alex said warningly. "Run"

Out of instinct, the Hobbit pulled free Sting, watching in terror how the blade gave off a blue glow.

Orcs were coming.

"Run!" Aragorn ordered, pulling his own sword free.

Frodo spun around and dashed away from the Watchtower. He didn't look back. He didn't turn to watch his companions face the army of Orcs.

He just ran.

* * *

Frodo kept running.

He could hear the sound of battle behind him become more silent the further he got away, but the thundering steps of the Uruks behind him were as loud as ever.

He wasn't very skilled in battle tactics, but even he was aware that the Uruks had sent in a large part of their men to distract Alex, while having another part chase after him.

He had to get away.

Suddenly, he stumbled and lost precious time, so he quickly scooted behind a tree, trying to stay as silent as possible while he caught his breath.

A group of Uruks ran past the tree without even taking notice of him, as their helmets restricted their line of vision greatly. Frodo knew he couldn't stay here though, since they would turn back around at some point and eventually discover him.

"Frodo!" Somebody hissed. The Ring-Bearer gasped and quickly turned his head, finding Merry and Pippin who were hidden beneath some fallen trees. His cousins waved frantically at him, begging him to come over.

"Hide here!" They hissed barely loud enough to be heard. "Quick! Come on!"

Frodo took a few deep breaths, slowly shaking his head.

He had to get away. He just hoped they'll see it his way.

Frodo saw understanding flash over the face of the two. He didn't understand what it meant until suddenly Pippin ran out of the hiding. For a split second, it looked like the youngest Hobbit would forcefully drag Frodo to safety, but he stopped and whirled around when a screech drew his attention. More Uruk-Hai came running down the hill and towards them. Merry, who had tried to stop his cousin made a hard decision. He turned into Frodo's direction. "Run Frodo", he whispered. "Go!"

Then he turned back towards the Uruks. "Hey!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. "Hey! Over here!"

"Hey!" Pippin continued, hopping a few times into the air and waving his arms. "This way!"

The Uruks changed their direction and came rushing towards the two.

Frodo gasped. They were going to sacrifice themselves for him. They risked their lives because he had to destroy the Ring.

He could not fail them.

His cousins turned tail and made a mad dash away from his position, luring the Uruks away.

Frodo swallowed hard. He knew they had no chance against them. He knew they couldn't get away.

But they did it for him, so he could get to Mordor. Their own lives weren't as important as the destruction of the Ring was. He would not disappoint them.

He took a deep breath before ducking away from the tree and hurrying down the hill, back towards the river and the boats.

Somewhere behind him he heard Boromir's Horn bellow out.

Frodo didn't stop to turn around. No. He couldn't stay.

* * *

He stood next to the boats, just staring at the water in front of him. The Ring sat on his palm, feeling heavy.

" _I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened."_

" _So do all who live in such times, but that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what you want to do with the time that is given to you."_

Frodo choked back a sob, though tears were still trailing down his cheeks. He remembered Gandalf's words clearly. But Gandalf was dead because of the Ring. Boromir had been corrupted because of the Ring. Merry and Pippin were going to be killed by the Uruks because of the Ring. Alex had nearly turned insane because of the Ring.

All this happened because of the Ring.

It could not be allowed to exist any longer. It needed to be destroyed.

He stuffed the cursed metal band into his vest pocket, dragged his elbow over his face to wipe off the tears before he shoved a boat into the water and climbed in.

He was going to destroy the Ring once and for all. His friend's sacrifices could not go to waste.

He grabbed the paddle and began moving the boat away from the shore.

"Frodo!"

The Ring-Bearer felt his heart leap into his throat.

 _Anybody but Sam!_

He couldn't turn around. He couldn't stay. He had to get away.

"Frodo, no!" He heard water splash for a second before he stopped. "Frodo! Mister Frodo!"

' _I can't stop now'_ Frodo thought. _'I can't risk your life, Sam.'_

His heart nearly stopped when he heart water splashing behind him. Despite his inner urge to get away, he stopped and turned, watching Sam stomp angrily deeper into the water.

"Go back Sam!" Frodo shouted, "I'm going to Mordor alone!"

"Of course you are!" His friend yelled after him, "And I'm coming with you!" The fool was trying to catch up with the boat. Frodo paled.

"You can't swim!" He shouted. His best friend ignored him, trying to helplessly dog-paddle after him. "Sam!"

The other Hobbit was too heavy. He began sinking beneath the surface.

"SAM!" Frodo shouted, already turning the boat and hastily paddling back. Without wasting any more time, he thrust his arm into the water and grasped Sam's wrist. He threw his entire weight back and pulled his best friend back to the surface, where he gasped for air.

Frodo pulled him on board of the boat, where Sam spluttered and coughed. Still, he turned determined eyes to Frodo. "I made a promise, Mister Frodo", he panted, "A promise! 'Don't ever leave him, Samwise Gamgee'. And I don't mean to!"

"Oh Sam", Frodo chocked back a sob and he hugged his (soggy) best friend.

He couldn't leave him alone. Sam was much too stubborn. He would follow him to Hell and back.

Frodo knew that from this point on, they would be together until the end.

"Come on", he whispered. And Sam nodded.

There was no way they would be separated again.

They paddled to the other shore together.

* * *

Frodo was running away from them, while Aragorn and Alex turned to face the horde of Uruk-Hai that shot from the forest towards them. The sentient Virus snarled and flexed his Claws as Aragorn touched his forehead with his sword and mentally readied himself for battle.

Alex wondered how the fuck he missed them when they were stinking the place up. He assumed the moment he had used the Ring and had gotten busy _not_ getting consumed by Blacklight's desire to feed off the Ring's powers was when his entire senses were scrambled to high Hell. Also, the Uruks didn't appear as stupid as he believed them to be, since they had arrived from downwind and from beneath the hill, where he couldn't see them until they were close enough.

Ultimate weapon of destruction or not- even he couldn't see anything that was in a blind spot.

While Aragorn was moving slowly towards the approaching horde and didn't show any emotions on his face, Alex was positively _raging_. His body writhed with angry tendrils as he seized the horde up.

His fierce eyes locked with a particularly large Uruk that stood there and roared at his brethren. This was Lurtz, the Uruk's leader and the first one made by Saruman.

The Prototype pulled his lips back in a snarl before he ducked low and charged at the Uruks. Within seconds, he had reached them and had utterly decimated the first five of them. But the creatures still kept going. They didn't shy back like the Orcs in Moria did. No, they kept rushing towards him like the Infected in Manhattan. They disregarded their own lives and threw themselves at the living weapon, getting torn to shreds by his massive claws.

More kept rushing past him, using his distraction to slip away. Alex snarled enraged, switching one claw to his blade for more reach before he spun in a half-circle, killing about any Uruk he came into contact with.

He was powerful, no question, but what bothered him was that there were others around.

Like Aragorn, who was just scrambling up the stairs of the watch tower to fight with the advantage of high ground. Alex couldn't go all-out. There were too many people around who he didn't want to hurt.

He had no time to adjust Blacklight to _only_ affect Orcs, since he knew this was a lost game to begin with. Blacklight adapted so fast, it would easily spread to the next living organism as soon it came into contact with, so a kill-all blow was out of question.

Which left him with just his claws, blades and spikes.

No matter, he would make this count. He would not let these bastards any closer to Frodo. He promised him that he would keep Sauron's gaze off him, and carving a bloody swathe into his armies was a great way to draw attention. Alex snarled and grabbed two Uruk, slamming them into each other to turn both into a bloody paste without so much as a twitch of his shoulders.

One Uruk who stood besides the carnage suddenly went down with an arrow embedded into his skull.

"Finally!" Alex snarled, swiping his Blade and killing another half a dozen Uruks. "You took your sweet time!"

"It looked like you had everything under control!" Gimli's rough voice chimed in, "But now it looks like you don't. So let us help you!"

Alex whirled and took a sword to the shoulder, allowing it to embed itself deep into his Biomass before he ripped the attacker's entire head off. "I don't need your help", he pointed out, "But Aragorn does. He's not as indestructible as I am."

"Where is Frodo?" Legolas shouted, stabbing an arrow through an Orc's throat before he quickly pulled it out and shot another Uruk with the same projectile.

"Gone!" Alex gave back. "He's gotta do this alone!" He brought his Blade down to split an Uruk from his head to the groin, then rammed his Claw into the ground and channelled his Biomass through the soil, letting his Groundspikes shoot out of the forest floor several feet away from him and impaling a good dozen Uruk-Hai. "We have to stop these guys here to-"

Alex cut himself off as his eyes widened in realization.

This wasn't right. This was completely _wrong_!

He whirled, switching to the Whipfist to swing it in a circular motion, swiping through another bunch of Uruks.

Ever since he had attacked them at the shore of the Great River, the Uruks had kept their distance. They were aware he had decided to stay close to the Fellowship, so they gave them room, never venturing closer than quarter of a mile.

But now? They just kept throwing themselves at him, completely disregarding their own lives as he cut through them, sliced them into tiny pieces.

Alex realized that it was what they were _supposed to do_. It wasn't a suicidal drive that made them jump into the proverbial wood chipper. It were their _orders_.

Uruks understood that all of them were expendable, as long their Masters managed to win, it didn't matter how many of them died.

It was a tactic he's seen in Greene's infected and to some extent in Blackwatch too.

But Lurtz- Lurtz was nowhere to be seen. He had slipped away as Alex, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli massacred his men. He was gone.

Alex knew he went after Frodo. But he didn't go alone.

The army fighting them on top of this hill was smaller than he remembered it. It was smaller than it was when Ghamorz left Orthanc with them.

It was a distraction.

Bait he only all too ready swallowed.

And that left the remaining army with enough possibilities to go after the Hobbits.

"Fuck this", Alex grated as he grabbed the first best Uruk-Hai and stabbed it once, hurling it into its companions with quite some force. He knew that his companions would be able to kill these guys here with no problem, so he could go and check up on the others.

Alex was already several yards away when he heard an ungodly shrieking and cracking, followed by a splattering sound, courtesy of whatever he just did to the Orc. His senses told him that there was a lot of blood behind him, though not a speck of infected matter.

' _What did I just do?'_ He wondered as he kicked off the ground and leapt into the sky, _'Eh. I can ask Aragorn later. Or Legolas. Maybe Gimli.'_

He snapped his arms and legs back, gliding through the sky. It was faster than trying to get across the forest floor, so he wouldn't be slowed down. His vision shifted into the infrared spectrum as he searched the ground. He saw dozens of Uruks rushing through the forest canopy, moving towards a single spot surrounded by a few cooling bodies.

Alex knew exactly who that was, especially after the Horn of Gondor bellowed out beneath him.

Boromir was in trouble.

The Prototype curled his body up and changed trajectory, dropping from the sky akin to a meteor while simultaneously beginning to charge up Biomass.

"BOROMIR!" He shouted, "DUCK!"

He heard the Gondorian swear, and noticed him duck to the side shortly before the Prototype hit the ground with an earth-shaking impact. At the same moment, his body released the power he had gathered, shooting tendrils in a mighty barrage into every direction.

Orcs were impaled and torn to shreds, boulders and ground were shattered and trees snapped like twigs under the force of the Devastator.

Within a single moment, Alex had effectively cleaned out everything in a radius of twenty feet around him. However, it didn't stop the Uruk-Hai. In the next few seconds, they were back in the brawl and slammed their weapons against the Prototype.

Alex snarled and pushed back, ripping the Uruk's head clean off before consuming its body.

With all the blood and guts around him, he couldn't pick up many scents. He was aware that Merry and Pippin were somewhere around, but he couldn't tell where exactly.

An arrow hit him square in the face, taking out one of his eyes. Alex reeled back and swore.

Uruk Arrows hurt more than Elven arrows, because they were much larger and heavier.

Not that it bothered him. Half blind, he swiped his Whipfist in an arch, taking out the Uruks in front of him.

"More are coming!" Boromir shouted, already back on his feet. "They have taken the little ones! Merry and Pippin!"

"We worry about them later!" Alex shouted back, despite a cold dread settling in his stomach. Instead, he reeled in an Uruk-Hai and consumed it for a quick healing. "When we run after them, we risk getting shot in the back!" His words were cut off when a second arrow hit him square in the chest.

The Prototype roared out in rage and switched to the Tendrils he took off the Water Creature, shooting them to the front and branching them out like a demented spider net to grab as many Uruks as somehow possible. Once he had secured them, he crushed them, breaking bones and bodies like dry twigs before changing to the Muscle Mass and diving at the one that shot him.

It was Lurtz, who managed to slip away after their first encounter.

Another arrow hit the Blacklight carrier, but Alex had reached the Uruk by now. He threw his arms out and seized both his shoulders. Lurtz instantly pulled out a dagger and sank it into the virus' chest, but Alex didn't even feel it. Instead, he simply _pulled_ , hearing with a satisfied smirk how the Uruk's bones snapped as he literally tore him in half before he grabbed his remains and dragged them in.

 _ **Web of Intrigue  
Uruk-Hai Lurtz  
**_ _"Do you know how the Orcs first came into being?" Master asked. "They were Elves once, taken by the dark powers. Tortured and mutilated...a ruined and terrible form of life...now perfected." Master smiled cruelly "My fighting Uruk-Hai." His eyes hardened "Whom do you serve?"  
"Saruman!"  
"One of the Halflings carries something of great value. Bring them to me alive, and __**unspoiled**_ _. Kill the others!"_

More Uruks came rushing towards them. Alex scowled deeply before flipping his Whipfist at them, slicing more of them apart at the hip. "Boromir!" He shouted, "Let's finish these fucks here!"

"What about Merry and Pippin?!" The Gondorian shot back. "We cannot leave them!"

"We have to!" Alex replied. "We have to keep our backs free, otherwise we might see a nasty surprise!" He switched back to his Claws and sliced in a rapid succession through the enemy. "Saruman ordered the Uruk-Hai to not harm the Hobbits! They aren't going to hurt them!"

"I don't know whether I should trust your word!" Boromir yelled, decapitating another Uruk, "But it appears we don't have much of a choice!"

"We don't!" The Prototype acknowledged, tearing the arrows from his flesh. "Let's make it count!"

* * *

It took the five warriors the better of half an hour to kill off every Uruk-Hai at Amon Hen. Most of the time was wasted when Alex chased down the last survivors and stomped them into a bloody crater on the floor. Once they were finished and had returned to the boats, Legolas spotted Frodo and Sam at the other shore and was about to shove another boat into the water.

"Hurry!" He commented, "Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore!" He stopped when nobody else was moving to help him.

Gimli shuffled his feet. Boromir hung his head. Aragorn glared at the direction the Uruk-Hai have fled to. Alex had his arms crossed.

Legolas furrowed his brows, turning his attention to the Ranger. "You mean not to follow them?"

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands", Aragorn said.

"Then it all has been in vain!" Gimli moaned, "The Fellowship has failed!"

"Not when we hold true to each other", the Ranger declared. "We can not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we still have strength left."

"We have to free them before the Uruks take them out of our reach", Boromir growled. "We have to!"

"It wasn't your fault", Alex told him. "You couldn't fight them all. Just be glad you are still alive and kicking and ready to take the fight back to Sauron."

"Will you follow after Frodo and Sam?" Legolas wondered. "You have sworn to protect the Ring."

"It's best when I don't", the Prototype claimed. "I kind of threatened Sauron with death, to keep his eye on me." He shook his head, turning to the boats. "I shouldn't be anywhere near the Ring, so Frodo and Sam can destroy it without Sauron noticing. I rather stay here and help you lot get back Merry and Pippin."

Aragorn nodded. "Leave all that can be spared behind", he ordered, "We travel light." A grim smirk appeared on his face. "Let's hunt some Orcs."

"Yeah!"


	14. On the Hunt

**Author: Original updated 2nd March 2016, new Version 27th June 2016.**

* * *

On the Hunt

"They _blew up_?" Alex asked surprised. He didn't think that whatever he had done with those Uruks was anything really flashy, but _they blew up_? This was even better than he would have hoped for!

Legolas grimaced as he remembered this situation. "They did indeed." He claimed. "Suddenly there were...tentacles everywhere that latched onto all Uruks close to them and pulled them together with incredibly force. There was...a lot of blood. And Gore. And just..." The Elf shook at those nasty memories. " _Eew_."

"I can make my own explosions", Alex lamented, ignoring Legolas' displeasure. "And I wasn't even there to witness it."

"Focus, please", Aragorn cut in with a groan. "We need to chase down the Uruks as fast as possible to get back Merry and Pippin. The more time we waste, the further they will get away."

"Alex, can't you just chase after them?" Gimli asked, "And destroy them to get our friends back?"

The virus shook his head. "It would really be better if I don't. Who knows how they'll react? I can track them down with no problem, but it could be possible that they kill the hostages when they see me approach or as soon they realize what's going on." He paused and scowled deeply. "Or I accidentally hurt them when I go all out."

"We need to hurry then if we wish to catch up to them", Legolas claimed, "For they run as if their masters' whips are after them. I fear we might lose them."

Boromir frowned, before suddenly his face lit up. "You said you can catch up to them, can you?"

"And I also said I'm not going to do that because my presence might endanger the Hobbits", Alex bit back.

"Then don't go after them as one of us!" the Gondorian pointed out, "Go after them as _one of them_. Stay between them, unseen, and make sure the Hobbits aren't harmed."

Alex stared at the man for a good few seconds before he slowly draped his hand over his face. "I fucking hate you so much right now, Boromir", he growled. "Why didn't I think of this?"

"Thought of what?" Gimli wondered.

" _Infiltration_ , Gimli", the Prototype declared with a wave of his arms. "I sneak into the group of Uruk-Hai to make sure that the Hobbits won't be injured in any way, while waiting for the perfect moment to strike and free them. Preferably with killing off every last of these bastards." He shook his head in disbelief. "Boromir, how did you get that idea before I did?"

"I thought of James Goodwin", the Gondorian replied, "How you...took his shape and tricked his captain. Will it work with Orcs too?"

"Of course it will work", the Prototype replied, changing course to where he heard a weak heartbeat. "It works on people and they are more intelligent than Uruks."

"Prepare everything you'll need", Aragorn ordered the others, "We have to hunt these Uruk-Hai down too, to draw their attention away from ours in their midst."

Alex grinned wide before he seized a half-living Uruk-Hai and held him aloft. "You will do, I believe", he told the creature.

His tendrils slammed into the Uruk and tore it apart, swallowing up every last piece of flesh while dropping armour and weapon to the ground. Alex was aware of the wincing sounds his companions made. Watching him consume was never a very nice sight, especially when the prey was half-dead already.

' _Just wait till they see this'_ , the Prototype thought wryly as he shifted his appearance into the Uruk he just consumed. He added another foot to his overall height and became more massive, while his body was clad in heavy armour. He wasn't sure how exactly he looked, but he was certain he looked damn ugly. _'Well, it's still better than that Hunter I transformed into once'_ , he thought amused as he checked his clawed hand.

He heard his companions' gasps when he turned around, glaring at them. He ignored them again and moved towards Aragorn, pulling _Morn-Galad_ from his own belt to hand it to the Ranger.

"They might get suspicious if I arrive there using an Elven Blade", he growled, his voice now a hoarse snarl. "I'll leave an obvious trail in case those bastards aren't leaving clear enough tracks."

Just as he wanted to turn and start going after the Uruks, Aragorn held him back. He held a water skin towards him.

"Take this with you", he reminded him, "I think Merry and Pippin are going to need it badly."

Alex took it with his clawed hand. "I'll make sure they won't be bodily harmed", he snarled, trying to figure out how to speak around the _tusks_ sticking out from his jaw. "But I have to stay low and wait for the right opportunity."

"We will be behind you. Just take care of the Hobbits, alright?" Aragorn said, placing his hand on Alex' shoulder. "Take care."

The Prototype grinned, giving the Ranger a thumb-up. "You got it. See you around."

He turned and started sprinting, quickly leaving his companions behind.

The Hunt had begun.

* * *

It didn't take the living Virus long to catch up to the horde of Uruk-Hai that fled from the Amon Hen. He knew he and the others did some heavy damage on these guys, though there were still entirely too many in this group, so trying to get Merry and Pippin to safety while tearing these bastards to shreds was going to get tricky. He had to wait for a convenient moment. Also, he was aware he could probably consume one or two, but they were going to become suspicious if he devoured any more, so no snacking until the Hobbits were secure.

He kept his distance first, carefully jogging after the group to check up on them. Neither of them looked back, which was good for him, because even in his disguise as Uruk, some of them could easily realize that he was supposed to be one of the sacrificial lambs back at the Amon Hen. One of those that were supposed to be dead.

' _Better grab another disguise then.'_

The Prototype needed only a split of a second to decide on his next target. He quickly caught up with the Uruk that ran at the very rear of the group. Within the blink of an eye, the living Virus had seized the Uruk, silenced it with a hand against its face and snapped its neck, instantly consuming it and quite literally stepping into its shape. The whole process didn't take longer than a few seconds and caused the Prototype to barely miss a step as he chased after the Uruk-Hai.

And none of them had noticed even a single thing, even as the Prototype quickly discarded the armour plates from his body. Along the way, the Virus casually scanned the Uruk's latest memories like others would leaf through a book.

He had been right with his earlier assumptions. Their mission was to bring the Hobbits to Saruman _alive_. Out of fear from their Master, they wouldn't dare to harm the Halflings.

Alex relaxed a bit. He was close to the Hobbits and while they weren't _safe_ , they weren't in immediate danger.

So all he had to do was get closer and wait for the right moment to strike from within the group.

* * *

It was around noon of the second day when the group of Uruks slowed down. They have barely rested and eaten during the time they were on the way. Alex couldn't help but compare them to highly-trained Blackwatch Soldiers. He knew that even humans could stay active for about three days with little to no rest, so it wasn't too strange that these Uruks would have a near limitless stamina, though they were going to slip up sooner or later.

And once they did, Alex was going to be there to take them out.

He scowled and narrowed his eyes when his nose picked up the stench of Orcs.

Uruk-Hai already smelt bad enough, but Orcs were even worse. And there was a whole bunch of them nearby.

One of the Uruk's leaders, Uglúk, lifted his hand to stop the troop when Orcs came from behind several boulders to approach them. Alex carefully pushed his way through the crowd to get closer to Merry and Pippin. They were still too close to the other Uruk-Hai for him to just start killing. But from what he could see, the two Halflings didn't look too good. He had to finish this fast, but now wasn't a very good moment.

Alex glanced at the Orcs and the Uruks, listening to their heart rate spike. Good. There was a massive hatred among these bastards. It appeared he wouldn't have to wait for too long anymore.

But he had to stay close to Merry and Pippin now.

"You're late", the Orc Leader snarled, "Our master grows impatient. He wants the Shire-Rats now!"

"I don't take orders from Orc-maggots!" The Uruk Leader Mauhúr barked, making the Orc back off and hiss at him. "Saruman will have his prize. We will deliver them." The Uruk-Hai turned his back to the weaker Orcs, knowing fully well that they wouldn't dare to hurt them.

Alex growled under his breath once he managed to get further to the front so he was closer to Merry and Pippin. They didn't look so good. Merry had a bleeding gash on his head and was very pale. Too pale. Alex was worried. People should have more colours in their faces, right?

But he couldn't help them. Not now. Not without blowing his cover. He couldn't help them because then they would be dead.

"Merry!" Pippin hissed, "Merry! Wake up!"

Alex heard his pulse quicken as the Hobbit whirled his head around, settling on the Uruk besides him that just drank from its water skin.

"My friend's sick", Pippin cried. "He needs some water." The Uruk glared at him, growling, but Pippin still tried to persuade him. "Please."

"Sick is he?" Mauhúr laughed, pushing his way through the rows of his men, "Give him some medicine, boys!"

Alex narrowed his eyes as the other Uruks began laughing loudly. He didn't like this, so he decided to put his foot down. He saw one of them grasp a flask, ready to pour the fouls-smelling liquid down Merry's throat, so the Virus acted.

Within the blink of an eye, he stood besides the Uruk holding Merry and shoved the one holding the flask roughly to the ground with a snarl. He kept his teeth bared, but still grabbed the skin he has gotten from Aragorn, giving the Hobbit a sip of clear water. Merry chocked and spluttered, coming back to his senses fast as he stared at the disguised Prototype with wide eyes. "Halflings needs water, not medicine!" Alex snapped angrily, standing between him and Mauhúr. It was a risky move, as he could accidentally blow his cover, but at least he was close enough to Merry and Pippin to just strap them to his back and get the fuck out of there.

Luckily, the Uruks didn't get that he wasn't one of them.

"Do you want to get clever with me, Maggot?!" The Mauhúr bellowed. Alex pulled his lips up in a feral snarl. "No, but when the Halflings die it is _your_ job to tell this to Saruman, no?"

That shut him and the other Uruks up good. Alex scowled harder. "Saruman wanted us to bring them to him _alive_ and unspoiled! You give them no water and they'll _fucking_ die!"

It was maybe another risky move to use his choice of words, but then he saw a flash of recognition on Pippin's face. Good, he now had an idea who he was. Maybe now would be a good moment to grab them and get the hell out of here?

Mauhúr growled before pulling back, glaring daggers at the Prototype. "You keep your mouth shut", he snarled, then he turned to his men. "When this maggot says another peep, you kill him, understood?"

' _You're more than welcome to try, asshole'_ , Alex thought, though he took an obedient step back, teeth still bared. Maybe he should grab another disguise?

He quickly decided against it. Now these guys had their eyes on him. He had to wait for another opportunity. At least he could scare these bastards with mentioning Saruman.

Uglúk suddenly sniffed the air, face darkening.

"What do you smell?" Mauhúr asked.

"Man-flesh", the other growled in reply.

Alex smirked. So they knew the others were after them. And that meant they had no idea that they have already been infiltrated.

"Aragorn", Pippin whispered quietly. Alex could still hear him, though he was confused for a second that the Hobbit suddenly dipped his head down and began biting down at the hem of his cloak.

"They've picked up our trail!" Mauhúr howled, making the other Orcs look around in panic, "Let's go!"

The group of Orcs and Uruks set into motion again, but it didn't escape Alex' attention that Pippin had managed to loosen the brooch of Lothlórien. He spat it to the ground, and the Uruks didn't notice it. Pippin just scattered some bread crumbs.

' _Clever Boy'_

* * *

Aragorn was flat on the ground with one ear pressed firmly against the soil, listening intently. He could sense the Uruks getting further away from them. He knew that they were on the right track, just a bit behind the creatures, and judging from the remains of armour they found on the first day, their shape-changing ally had taken another form.

He slid his eyes open, climbing back to his feet. "Their pace has quickened", he informed his companions. "They must have caught our scent. Hurry!"

He barely noticed that only Legolas was directly behind him and he didn't stop to wait for the others to catch up.

The Elf stopped for a moment, turning around to call out "Come on" to the others before chasing after the Ranger.

Boromir and Gimli just barely managed to scramble up a small slope, witnessing in despair how their other two friends just continued running. "Three days and nights in pursuit", Gimli gasped, "No food, no rest, and no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell."

"I think I'm going to be dead at the end of this", Boromir panted, hunched over and trying to catch his breath. Being an ordinary human made it hard for him to retain his energy after three days of not sleeping and only stopping for drinking. Still, even as his heart was slamming madly against his ribs, he wanted to do nothing more than finally catch up with the Uruks that took the Halflings and free their friends. It was his fault all this happened. If he hadn't chased Frodo away, then this wouldn't have happened.

So he denied his body what it craved most and forced himself to continue chasing after Aragorn.

They continued their run for several more miles, entering a natural ravine when Aragorn stopped, allowing Gimli and Boromir to catch up with them once more. The Ranger bent down and picked something up. It was a clasp from Lothlórien.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lothlórien fall" He muttered, turning his attention to the horizon.

Legolas turned towards him, glancing at the brooch. "They may yet be alive", he stated surprised.

Aragorn nodded. "They _are_ still alive", he commented, "Or else we would have discovered much more dead Uruks." His eyes glowed. "Our friend still doesn't seem to have found the right moment to strike, but now they are less than a day ahead of us, come!" He picked up his speed, hoping to gain some more ground.

Legolas turned when he heard a surprised yell from the back, witnessing Gimli tumbling into the ravine. "Come!" The Elf called out, "We're gaining up on them!"

The Dwarf panted harshly as he struggled back to his feet. Boromir arrived next to him, doubled over and nearly completely out of breath. "I'm wasted on cross-country", the Dwarf commented to the Man, "We Dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances."

Boromir said nothing to conserve whatever energy he still had left.

A few miles later Aragorn and Legolas stopped atop a hill, gazing at the surrounding area. Their speed had dropped notably, indicating that even they reached the end of their strength.

Boromir was panting heavily as he dragged himself next to a boulder, sinking against it. He still managed to recognize the area though. "Rohan", he ground out, "Home of the horse-lords."

"There's something strange at work here", Aragorn muttered, "Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us."

"We have to rest", Boromir gasped, "I know all of us want to catch up to the Uruks, but we can not hope to fight them if we can't stay on our own legs."

Aragorn paused, frowning. "I...I understand. I just wanted to get to them before something happens, but you are right...we need to rest."

"Only a few hours", Gimli piped up, "Just so we have enough energy to spare to take out these dirty beasts."

"I second that", Boromir agreed.

Aragorn nodded, turning towards the Elf. "Legolas, what do your Elf-eyes see?"

"The Uruks turn Northeast", Legolas declared, glaring at the wide open plain, "They are taking the Hobbits to Isengard."

Aragorn growled. "Saruman. I hope Alex acts soon instead of attempting to massacre all of Isengard."

"Just a few hours of rest", Boromir groaned, "Then we can continue to worry."

* * *

It was night when the group of Orcs and Uruks stopped at the edge of a large forest. Most of them dropped to their knees, growling and snarling exhausted.

"We ain't goin' no further 'till we had a breather!" one Uruk complained loudly. The Uruk Leader snorted, then pointed at the forest nearby. "Get a fire going!"

A few of them began scrambling towards the trees, while the two carrying Merry and Pippin flung the Hobbits to the ground. The younger Halfling groaned in pain as he hit the floor, but he was glad he wasn't strapped to the stinking Uruk-Hai anymore. He didn't have time to dwell on that, though. Now they weren't in the closer vicinity of the Uruks, they could try to figure out how to get out of this place. He glanced to his cousin, noticing how pale the older Hobbit was.

Pippin immediately crawled over to Merry in panic, fearing that he might have fallen unconscious. "Merry! Merry!"

Merry moaned, prying his eyes open. "I think we might have made a mistake. Leaving the Shire, Pippin."

Suddenly somebody stepped next to them, kneeling down and roughly seizing Merry's head. The Hobbit gave a startled gasp, squirming in his bonds as an Uruk twisted the older Hobbit's head. He was going to snap his neck at this rate!

"Hey!" Pippin yelled, "Stop it!"

"For the love of God", the Uruk suddenly bit back in a hushed whisper. "Cry louder, will you? I don't think everybody heard you yet, Pippin!"

Merry stopped twisting and Pippin's words died in his throat as his jaw hung open. He saw the Uruk's eyes quickly changing their appearance, from golden Orc to icy blue _human_ ones.

" _Alex_?!" Pippin hissed, "Is that you?"

"In the flesh", the Uruk replied with a smirk, "Though not exactly inside my _normal_ body." He glanced back where the other Uruk-Hai and Orcs have begun chopping wood. "We gotta make this quick", he hissed, "I have been here since they carried you off-"

"Then why-?" Pippin began accusingly, though the Plague cut him off. "I couldn't risk your lives", he explained, "You were too close to these bastards. I'm sorry I didn't act sooner, but I had no choice."

Suddenly the trees started to rumble and groan, making the Hobbits flinch. "What's making that noise?" Alex asked bewildered.

"It's the trees", Merry whispered.

"What?" Pippin gasped.

"You remember the Old Forest?" Merry asked his cousin, "On the borders of Buckland? Folks used to say that there was something in the water that made the trees grow tall, and come alive."

"Alive?" Alex asked confused, though he did keep an eye on the other Uruks, who didn't seem bothered by the groaning. They didn't even seem to notice the Viral infiltrator speak to their captives.

Merry nodded. "Trees that could whisper, talk to each other. Even move."

"Bah!" A voice bellowed besides them, making Alex jump to his feet instantly. Luckily, it didn't seem to be aimed at him. "I'm starving!" One of the Uruk suddenly shouted and flung a piece of bread to the ground. "We ain't had nothing but maggoty bread for three stinkin' days!"

"Yeah", An Orc piped up, "Why can't we have some meat?" He turned, resting his eyes on the Hobbits, who froze. "What about them?" He asked, "They're fresh."

Pippin noticed Alex swear and step to the front, but the Uruk Leader suddenly marched towards the Orc with a growl. "They are not for eating!" He snarled.

"This is getting bad really fast", Alex hissed, grabbing Merry and Pippin and dragging them back. Even the other Uruks moved between them. Still, the Orcs didn't give up.

"What about their legs?" The Orc Leader questioned. "They don't need those. Ooh, they look tasty!"

Merry and Pippin stared in panic, with even the presence of their ally doing only little to calm their nerves. The Uruk Leader grabbed the Orc and shoved him back with a growl. "Get back scum!" He shouted, "The prisoners go to Saruman! Alive and unspoiled!"

"Alive?" The Orc Leader asked confused, "Why alive? Are they good sport?"

"They have something", The Uruk Leader growled. "An Elvish weapon. The Master wants it for the war."

"They think we have the Ring", Pippin whispered.

"Shh", Merry hissed, "If they find out we don't we're dead!"

Alex let out a low growl, whirling around as suddenly the Orc that brought up the whole eating thing sneaked up on the Hobbits. "Just a mouthful", the Orc drooled, "A bit off the flank-?!"

With a loud roar, Alex brutally cut it off, jamming his fist straight through the Orc's chest, ignoring its armour as if punching through wet paper.

The group of Orcs and Uruks hissed in surprise, then stepped back as the Impostor Uruk's body was covered with a writhing mass of red and black before settling in his usual human shape.

With a flick of his wrist, he flung the Orc cadaver off, stepping right over Merry and Pippin in a hunched over protective stance. "Merry, Pippin", he growled, while a group of tendrils suddenly slipped from his body and latched onto the Hobbit's binds, slicing them to pieces. "At my mark, you get the fuck away from here. Run into the forest, I'll come and get you after I finish this here, got it?"

"What mark?!" Pippin asked in panic.

"Don't move", the Plague snarled. The Hobbits watched how several red and black bands crawled over the man's body, concentrating in the middle of his chest.

It looked just like it did in Moria, when he conjured these giant black spikes from the ground.

His body literally _burst_ into a nightmarish amount of tentacles and spikes that shot out in every direction, impaling Orcs and Uruks alike. The beasts howled in pain and terror as they witnessed their kin being torn to pieces by the devastating onslaught. The ground turned slick with blood and entrails, yet most of the Uruks survived the blow with crippling injuries.

"Run!" Alex roared as he pulled the spikes back into his body, switching to his claws. "Get to safety!"

He leapt at the closest two Uruks, dismembering them within moments.

The beasts howled and screeched and dashed towards the Plague, trying to bring him down, yet Merry and Pippin knew that he wouldn't be taken down so easily, so they quickly scrambled to their feet and started running into the forest, but the Orc leader caught up to them. He had used to confusion to slip away. "Go on", he hissed, "Call for help! Squeal! No one's gonna save you now!"

His head was sliced off by a black and red barbed and clawed tentacle that slammed into the ground close to the Hobbits.

"I don't think so", Merry commented to the Orc's head. "It rather looks like no one's there to help _you_."

"Come!" Pippin hollered, "Let's get away!"

The cousins dashed into the forest, leaving the massacre behind.

* * *

Alex spent a solid fifteen minutes slaughtering each and every Uruk that stood in his way. He had been very careful to pick off each of them before they managed to get into the forest, but he didn't prevent them from fleeing into the opposite direction.

Just that they didn't get very far, he realized a moment later. Horses with riders were approaching.

The Prototype didn't miss a beat, shifting into his armoured form shortly before a massive troop of armed riders appeared before him.

Their horses neighed out in panic and several reared up, but still they remained where they were and did not flee.

Alex narrowed his eyes behind his face plate at the men that ordered the steeds. Neither of them could tear their gazes away from the carnage he caused, but they didn't back down either even if their hearts beat madly.

The Virus inclined his head, glaring directly at the men's leader. The man stared back, fear evident in his eyes, but there was also determination and the will to fight if needed.

But Alex had no intentions to fight him or his men. He turned his attention quickly to the last remaining five Uruks that tried to creep away. Without so much as a thought, he speared his Whipfist through all five and dragged them back towards him, closer and closer until his feeding tendrils connected and tore them apart, drinking up their essence down to the last bit of flesh. He kept watching the horse men's leader the entire time, noting with amusement the effort he made to hide his greening face.

' _I wasted enough time here'_ , the living Virus thought, ' _Have to check up on the Hobbits.'_ He simply turned away and stalked away from the battle field, crunching a half-dead Uruk beneath his armoured foot on his way to the forest edge. He left his back wide open for the horse riders to attack him, but they didn't dare to.

He could enter the forest unhindered, though he did pause and glance back at the men for a second.

As soon he got some distance between himself and the forest's edge, he removed his armour and glanced around, taking a few deep breaths. He had to find Merry and Pippin and take them back to Aragorn and the others. Then they would decide how to continue.

He scowled at the easily recognizable stench of Orc, drawing his eyebrows together worried. Did one of them slip past?

Fuck.

Alex picked up his feet and began dashing through the forest, following the Hobbit's scent.

They couldn't have gotten far, and the Orc was injured judging from the coppery smell he noticed.

His feet dug deep trenches when he stopped abruptly at the sight of the Orc.

It was flat on the ground.

Like _pancake flat_.

His body shivered with a distance tremor he quickly recognized as heavy steps. There was something moving, and it was easily as heavy as he was.

And it was also walking away from him, while smelling of Merry and Pippin. The Prototype followed after it.

"We are no Orcs!" Merry's distant voice argued, "We are Hobbits!"

"Hobbits?" Another voice asked. It was much deeper and didn't carry as wide as the Hobbit's light ones. Alex swore and sped up, eating up the distance between them in no time. "Never heard of a Hobbit before. Sounds like Orc mischief to me." The voice dropped low into an enraged tone. "They come with fire, they come with axes. Biting, breaking, hacking, burning. Destroyers and usurpers. Curse them!"

Alex heard Merry and Pippin groan in pain, so he pushed himself to move faster, breaking through some shrubbery and making a break for whoever was hurting the Hobbits.

He nearly stumbled over his own feet when he saw their captor though.

' _Is this a walking tree?!'_

The creature had stopped for a moment in its stride, glancing at the newly arrived Prototype in confusion and surprise, and even Merry and Pippin had turned in its grasp to look at their friend.

The thing was big, a few dozen feet at least, and covered in tree bark from head to foot. It had root-like toes and branches for fingers, and a lot of leaves growing out of its body.

A walking... _talking tree_.

And it held Merry and Pippin captive!

Alex growled and bared his teeth, ducked into an attack stance and summoned his claws.

"Let them go", he snarled, "Before I am forced to chop you up into wood chippers!"

The Tree blinked at him, but it didn't show any sign of fear. "Why would you want to harm me? To free these little Orcs?" It frowned. "You are an Orc too, are you? But no. This can't be. You are not born from this soil." The tree paused, eyes turning thoughtful. "The White Wizard will be able to tell."

"White Wizard?" Alex glared at the tree. "Saruman?!"

"The White Wizard", the tree replied, "He can tell." It suddenly let go of Merry and Pippin, sending them hurtling to the ground. Alex swore and dove right towards them, catching both in a crouch.

"Easy", he growled lowly, "I got you."

"Too late", Merry gasped. "He's here"

The three of them glanced up, noticing the white-robed figure in front of them. Alex inhaled sharply.

"Holy Fuck."

* * *

The fourth day had come. Aragorn, Gimli, Boromir and Legolas had only slept for a few hours- the first time since starting to follow after the Uruk-Hai and had been on the way ever since before dawn came.

Legolas stopped, turning to the east with a frown. "A red sun rises", he stated, "Blood has been spilt this night."

Aragorn frowned, not knowing whether this was a good sign. The trail was only a few hours old, so they would catch up to the Uruk-Hai soon. He wasn't worried for Merry and Pippin though. Alex was there, hidden amongst the ranks of the Uruks, and he would rather lose a leg than let harm befall the Hobbits.

Also, he was quite positive that their companion had already stopped the Uruk-Hai, for the Ranger could no longer hear their footfall in the ground.

"Aragorn!" Legolas exclaimed in a warning tone. The Ranger turned his head glancing into the direction the Elf was looking.

A large group of riders was coming close fast.

The four hunters quickly ducked behind several large boulders, hiding from their eyes. The riders dashed past them with their golden hair flying in the wind and their spears glittering in the sun light. They wielded the banner of a white horse on green ground.

They were the Rohirrim, the elite troop of Rohan.

Aragorn glanced at his friends before slipping out of their hide-out and stepping into plain view.

"Riders of Rohan!" He called out, "Any news from the Mark?"

The men immediately turned their steeds and galloped back towards them. Boromir, Legolas and Gimli stood besides Aragorn when the riders reached them. In an instant, they were surrounded with spears pointed at their faces.

The hunters knew they could probably be talked to, but they were still unnerved when they found themselves cut off completely by these highly-trained soldiers.

Aragorn held his hands in plain view, watching how a tall blonde man moved to the front, glaring at them. From the looks of him, he was the troop's leader.

"What business", the leader questioned with a sharp tone, "Does an Elf, two Men and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?" He scowled. "Speak quickly."

"Give me your name horsemaster", Gimli suddenly cut in, "And I shall give you mine."

Aragorn groaned mentally and the Rider was seemingly not amused either. He angrily dismounted and stepped in front of Gimli. The Dwarf lifted his chin to glare at him, ready to knock him on his backside should the need arise. Aragorn put his hand on his shoulder to hold him back.

"I would cut off your head, _Dwarf_ " The Rider growled, "If it stood but a bit higher from the ground!"

In an instant, Legolas had his bow drawn and had aimed an arrow directly at the man's head, his eyes narrowed. "You would die before your stroke fell", The Elf threatened, earning the full brunt of the man's glare. The riders shifted their spears to Legolas' head in a warning motion. The Elf glared at the rider's face for several seconds until Boromir pushed his arm down with a hard look.

"I'm Aragorn, son of Arathorn", Aragorn introduced himself "This is Gimli, son of Glóin, and Legolas Thranduilion of the Woodland Realm." He waved towards Boromir "This is Boromir, son of Denethor"

The blonde Man blinked in surprise, turning his attention to Boromir. "The son of Gondor?" He asked.

"We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king", Boromir declared. He locked gazes with the horse lord. "And we are friends of you, Èomer."  
The man's eyebrows shot up upon hearing his name, and he watched the Gondorian for a few moments before he sighed in defeat. "Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe", he explained, removing his helmet. "Not even his own kin." His men lifted their spears, removing them from the hunter's vicinity. Èomer looked at the four with a mixture between defeat and hatred. "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed Lordship over this land." He motioned to the men around him. "My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished."

Aragorn blinked. He knew Théoden, knew how wise he was. But banishing his most talented warriors? These were bad news.

Èomer hissed. "The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked." He glared at Legolas, who stared back. "And everywhere his spies slip past our nets."

"We are no spies", Aragorn explained, "We track a band of Uruk-Hai westwards across the plains. They have taken two of our friends captive."

Èomer furrowed his brows. "The Uruks were destroyed", he said slowly, "A Demon descended upon them and slaughtered them during the night."

"A Demon?" Boromir asked with a worried expression.

"Its foul presence scared the horses", Èomer explained slowly, "Though it wasn't interested in me or my men." His eyes narrowed. "Once it had finished with the Uruks, it went away into the darkness of the Forest. We didn't dare to follow it."

Aragorn frowned. "What did it look like?" He asked, "Could you recognize it?"

"It walked like a man, but it had claws. It tore through the Uruk-Hai, while their weapons broke against its shell", Èomer explained. "It just stared at us before it left."

Aragorn relaxed slightly. So Alex had finally taken the matters into his own hands. That was good.

"But there were two Hobbits!" Gimli called out, "Did you see two Hobbits with them?"

"They would be small", Boromir added, "Only children to your eyes."

"It left none alive", the Horse Lord explained darkly. "After it left, we piled the remains together and burnt them", he nodded over his shoulder where smoke was visible. "Not that there was much left of them anyways."

Gimli fell silent, glancing towards the ground. Aragorn was aware that the Dwarf came to the same conclusion as him, that Alex was the one who slaughtered the Uruks, but that didn't explain why he didn't return to them with dawn.

Maybe something happened? Something...bad to Merry and Pippin?

"I'm sorry", Èomer spoke. He watched them for a moment before he whistled sharply. "Hasufel, Arod!"

Two horses walked up to them, looking curious at the group in front of them. Elrond took them on their bridles and nodded towards the four hunters. "May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters. Farewell."

He got back up on his steed and turned towards them. "Look for your friends, but do not trust the hope. It has forsaken these lands." He raised his voice. "We ride north!"

The Rohirrim sped away, leaving only the four hunters standing there.

"I think we can assume that it was Alex they were talking about, correct?" Legolas asked.

Aragorn nodded. "I have no reason to believe otherwise." He turned to his companions. "Quick! Let us hurry as to not let them wait for much longer."

* * *

Cramming four adults on two Horses wasn't a very easy task. Aragorn had to share Hasufel with Gimli and Legolas rode Arod with Boromir.

The Elf was initially concerned that the horses might not be able to carry so much weight, but he was pleasantly surprised when they figured out that the steeds of Rohan were powerful and still fast even when carrying more riders.

The stench of burning flesh hit them right in the face and made their eyes water.

Aragorn grimaced at the sight of bodies torn to shreds, of limbs strewn haphazardly across. The ground was blackened and dug up in several parts, with armour and broken weapons sticking out of the soil at odd angles.

A familiar hooded shape stood in front of the pile with his arms crossed

"Late", Alex said, "But they finally arrive." He paused, taking in the situation as they stopped in front of him. "Couldn't you have gotten a few more horses?" He asked with a frown, "It's looking kind of awkward."

"Alex", Aragorn called out once he had dismounted and went over to greet the other man. "I see you held true to your word."

"Yup", Alex nodded. "Sorry it took so long, but I had to wait until these assholes stop for the night."

"What is with Merry and Pippin?" Boromir asked, looking around, "Where are they?"

"Safe", Alex explained. He nodded towards the Forest behind him. "They're with a friend at the moment." He turned his back to them, motioning them to follow. "Come, you have to meet somebody."


	15. Rohan

**Author: Original uploaded on March 4th, 2016, New Version on 19th July 2016. I have to speed things up a bit here.  
**

* * *

Rohan

Aragorn and his companions entered the Fangorn Forest, slowing their movements to a careful sneaking. The deeper they went, the more he felt as if something was creeping up on them. Like a shadow that sought to entangle and suffocate them. His glance found Alex, who was walking along silently, his head slowly swivelling from side to side as he kept watch, but nothing about his posture told him whether he felt just the same as he did.

Probably not, since the Plague in the shape of a man didn't have to fear anything, for there was precious little that was a threat to him.

Aragorn's eyes caught sight of black stains on a bush's leaves nearby. Gimli had noticed too, because the Dwarf was moving towards the bush, dipping his finger into the black liquid and giving it a careful taste, which he almost immediately spat out again.

"Orc Blood", he growled.

Boromir narrowed his eyes and held his sword harder, and the group picked up their speed, following the barely hidden splatters and the more obvious large impacts Alex seemingly left there nights before.

They stopped soon enough, staring wide-eyed at the flattened Orc in the middle of the forest.

"Was this your doing?" Boromir asked, glancing at the mess on the forest floor.

"Not in this instance", the Plague replied. "If I had smashed him, the guy would be more of a puddle with some harder bits, but not just _flat_."

"These are strange tracks", Aragorn pointed out.

"The whole thing was strange", Alex explained helpfully, "But you'll see."

"The air is so close here", Gimli grumbled, glancing around as if expecting something to jump at them any given moment.

"This forest is old", Legolas commented, "Very old"

"Old as balls", Alex threw in cheekily. The group immediately glared at him where he was leaned against a tree, arms crossed.

The Plague frowned at them for a moment. "Seriously? You guys are almost pissing yourselves because of a _forest_?" He cut off Legolas' retort before the Elf had a chance to utter it. "This forest is about the safest place in Middle Earth."

"This forest is different", Legolas explained slowly. "It is full of memory. And _anger_."

Suddenly a dull groan echoed through the forest, making Gimli jump and lift his axe, and Boromir whirl around nervously. Legolas and Aragorn were watching in amazement and Alex merely arched an eyebrow.

"The trees are speaking to each other", Legolas whispered, listening to the creaks and groaning. As he turned, he noticed Gimli hold his axe ready, as if he was going to chop down the closest tree.

"Gimli!" Aragorn hissed, startling the Dwarf again. "Huh?"

"Lower your axe", Boromir ordered. Gimli looked around one last time before slowly lowering his weapon, while also keeping his hands in plain view. The groaning faded into a distant rumble.

"They have feelings, my friend", Legolas explained, looking around. "The Elves began it: waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

"Talking Trees", Boromir deadpanned.

"What do trees have to talk about?" Gimli wondered, "Except the consistency of squirrel droppings?"

"They are not only talking", Alex grinned. "You'd be surprised what the trees around here can do."

"What do you mean?" Gimli wondered.

"You'll see", the Plague wearing the face of a man stated. "Hell, it knocked _me_ nearly out of my boots when I first met them." He nodded towards the tracks they were following. "And I have fought a thing that started out as a parasite on my back. But don't worry; once you get to know these trees, they aren't so bad anymore." Aragorn noticed how the man suddenly paused, his focus flitting away and to a spot somewhere behind them. His lips peeled away from his teeth in a wild grin. The Ranger wasn't sure what this expression meant.

" _Aragorn"_ , Legolas hissed in Sindarin, drawing his attention away from his otherworldly companion, _"Something's out there!"_

The Ranger quickly caught up to the Elf, eyes narrowed. _"What do you see?"_

"The White Wizard approaches", the Elf stated with a low whisper. Aragorn swallowed, throwing an eye back at Gimli and Boromir. They had noticed his glance and grabbed their weapons harder. The Ranger closed his eyes, steeling his will.

"Don't let him speak", he ordered with a whisper, "He will put a spell on us."

His hand slid to the hilt of his sword, just as Boromir's did. The Gondorian also lowered his shield slightly off his back to be able to use it quickly. Legolas had his bow ready, fingers clamping down on the arrow. Gimli gripped his axe harder as all of them prepared themselves for assaulting the unseen wizard.  
Aragorn noticed Alex' smirk slide off his face as he took notice of their battle-ready stances. "Guys?" He muttered, "That's won't be necessary here-"

"We must be quick", Aragorn hissed, ignoring his companion's input. He couldn't see the threat Saruman posed to them, maybe because he believed he couldn't to be influenced. But the others couldn't say the same about themselves.

So they had to act quick. The group whirled around, ready to strike. The Wizard stood before them, but his body suddenly started to glow, blinding them all with a bright white light. Aragorn and Boromir couldn't do more than squeeze their eyes shut, while Legolas managed to shoot his arrow and Gimli hurled his smaller hand axe with all strength towards the wizard. The man effortlessly deflected the axe and easily shattered the arrow out of the air. With a wave of his staff, the swords of Aragorn and Boromir suddenly began glowing red, making them drop their weapons with an outcry lest they wanted to burn their hands.

The Ranger clenched his teeth, squinting his eyes against the blinding light to try to figure out where the Wizard was. He stepped to the front, intent on protecting his companions when he suddenly felt something painfully restrict his middle.

Before he could figure out what it was, it suddenly clenched around his stomach harder and _yanked_ once, pulling him back with little effort. The Ranger couldn't help but make a surprised yelp as he suddenly found himself and the other three lifted off the floor, dangling over the ground held by...writhing black tentacles.

Instantly, their attention snapped to Alex, who stood casually leaned against a tree with his head lowered so they couldn't see his expression.

"What is this for?!" Boromir yelled, "Do you intent to betray us to Saruman?!"

The Plague in the shape of a man shifts and for a split second he looks like a shadow in front of the bright light. Like a living nightmare.

"Not betrayal", Alex replies to Boromir's question. "I'm just making sure that none of you do anything hasty."

"Not anything _hasty_?!" Gimli complained, tugging at the black band holding him. "You are the one holding us off the floor like that blasted Water Monster did!"

"And it is quite...restricting", Legolas added, squirming in hope of getting free. Aragorn could see a couple more tendrils snake across the Elf's body to further secure him, earning a dark glare from him. "And distracting", Legolas added, though he did cease his wriggling.

A low chuckle drew their attention. "You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits", the voice claimed.

Aragorn's eyes widened in panic. Above all this, he had forgotten about the White Wizard nearby. _Saruman_.

And their own companion was holding them captive.

The Ranger carefully tested the iron-like band that was wrapped around his middle, and it reacted by constricting some more. He could feel the raw power in this thing. It could probably snap him in half without any troubles.

"Don't you worry", Alex cut in "Merry and Pippin are safe. They passed through here just the night before last, and I have been waiting for you since then."

Nearly two days...Aragorn furrowed his brows. Quite a lot of time for Saruman to influence him.

But could he be influenced? He wasn't human, didn't work the same way they worked. So was it possible to poison his mind with sweet words?

"Why not let us go then?" The Ranger asked, "Why keep us captive?"

"Because I don't want you to hurt him", the Plague replied casually. The tendrils retracted, placing the four back on the ground. "You shouldn't judge too fast, Aragorn", Alex continued. "If you have the facts, then don't screw them up." He nodded towards the white-glowing figure. "I told you this place was safe."

"But- who else would wait in the forest other than the White Wizard?"

"There is only the White Wizard", the unknown man stated. He chuckled lightly before he stepped to the front, the bright light gradually dying down behind him. "But he is not who you believe he is."

Gimli and Boromir stood there, their jaws hanging open uselessly. Aragorn blinked, trying very hard to prevent his own brain from shutting down.

"It cannot be", he gasped.

Legolas made a small noise before he dropped to one knee, head bowed down. "Forgive me", he whispered, "I mistook you for Saruman."

"I am Saruman", the Wizard told them with a gentle voice. "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

"You fell", the Ranger gasped, confusion muddling his mind. How was this possible? How could he stand here in front of them?

The other furrowed his brow and his voice dropped. "Through Fire and Water", he explained. "From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth." His voice dropped a bit, as if exhausted. "Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside." The Wizard's voice turned distant. "Darkness took me and I strayed out of thought and time."

"You...you died?" Boromir asked in surprise, voicing the thoughts that shot through Aragorn's head as well.

"Stars wheeled overhead and every day was as long as the life age of the earth", the Wizard continued. He paused and smiled at the group in front of them. "But it was not the end. I felt light in me again. I have been sent back until my task is done."

"Gandalf", Aragorn breathed, finally realizing that his mind was clear and did not dream this encounter.

"Gandalf?" The Wizard chuckled, "Oh yes. That's what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name."

His smile widened as he turned to Alex. "Just as you died as Doctor Mercer and returned as Blacklight, I died as Gandalf the Grey and returned as Gandalf the White." He turned his attention to the other four Hunters. "And I came back to you at the turn of the tide."

* * *

"You never told me", Alex began, walking besides Gandalf and Aragorn as they moved out of the Fangorn Forest. "How did you beat the Balrog?"

The Wizard smiled gently. "We fought for days, and its wicked flames have been extinguished by our fall together. It weakened the longer our fight went on, but I would not have been able to defeat this demon. Not without help."

Alex frowned, inclining his head. Gandalf hasn't said that there was somebody fighting alongside him, and still he claimed he did have help.

"Oh, it wasn't a _person_ who fought alongside me", the Wizard stated, answering to the Virus' thoughts, "No, it was something...smaller. Much more insignificant, and still it was what turned the battle to my favour."

"I don't think I understand", the Prototype muttered. He really didn't, but his brain was trying to piece it together. He was certain he missed something, so he couldn't see the entire picture clearly, but he was willing to listen to learn more. With a small tilt of his head, he encouraged Gandalf to continue.

"The Balrog became weaker the longer we fought", the Wizard pointed out, "And it wasn't just my sword responsible for this." He smiled at the living Virus. "When you tried to hold it back, your essence was left within the Balrog. As we fought, it steadily weakened my foe, until I could destroy it."

"Holy", Alex gasped. "I _infected_ the Balrog?" His head snapped around, and his focus turned into the direction of the mountains for several long seconds until Gandalf's voice chimed in.

"The Balrog is dead", he told him, "And frozen by the unforgiving colds of the mountains."

Alex sighed. "I wouldn't be able to backtrack there fast enough anyways." He glanced at his companions. "We are needed elsewhere, aren't we?"

Gandalf nodded, turning back to the edge of the forest. "One stage of your journey is over, another begins", he explained, "War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras with all speed."

"Edoras?" Boromir noticed, "That's no short distance."

Aragorn frowned. "We hear of trouble in Rohan", he claimed, "It goes ill with the king."

"Yes", Gandalf agreed, "And it will not be easily cured."

"But we're going to try anyways, aren't we?" Alex questioned, though it was actually more of an affirmation to things he was already aware of than a real question. They would turn their backs to the Fangorn Forest and head to Edoras or wherever, and try to figure out how to beat Saruman.

That meant leaving the Hobbits behind, though. Alex wasn't too overly worried about them, since he knew that they would be safe.

Gimli thought differently, however. "Then we have run all this way for nothing?" He complained, "Are we to leave those poor Hobbits in this horrid dank dark, tree-infested-" The trees groaned in protest, making the Dwarf jump and quickly scramble for pacifying words. "I mean charming- quite charming forest."

Legolas grinned wide at his friend's misfortune, while Boromir looked relieved that they were finally leaving this place. Gandalf watched Gimli for a few seconds.

"It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn", he explained, "A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts and avalanche in the mountains."

"Well, at least one thing didn't change", Alex said to Boromir.

"And that would be?"

"Gandalf still likes to speak in riddles", Alex grinned. Boromir chuckled in reply, a wide smile on his face. Aragorn and Gandalf both laughed as well.

"A thing is about to happen here that has not happened since the Elder Days", the Wizard claimed, now serious again, "The Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong."

"You can trust me that this is a really good thing", the Virus explained to the others, "Merry and Pippin are safe."

"Far safer than any of us are about to be", Gandalf pointed out with a deep frown.

"The new Gandalf is grumpier than the old one", Gimli muttered, moving to follow the Wizard out of the Fangorn Forest.

They all were more or less silent as they trekked back outside the forest to where they left the Rohirrim's steeds. As Boromir and Aragorn retrieved them, Gandalf looked across the plains and whistled sharply.

A moment later, a neigh answered his call and a large white stallion peeled out of the glare of the sun and galloped towards them, eating up the distance within the blink of an eye.

"That is one of the Mearas", Legolas noticed with surprise, "Unless my eyes are cheated by some spell."

"Shadowfax", Gandalf explained as the horse stopped in front of him, snorting softly. "He's the Lord of all horses and has been my friend through many dangers", the Wizard finished, gently patting the animal's neck.

Alex growled under his breath. "We don't have much time", he said slowly, "If we want to reach Edoras in time, we should set out as soon as possible."

"Indeed", Gandalf agreed, "We can not linger any longer. Come, my friends."

* * *

It was late in the night when they finally stopped. Even though their horses wanted to carry them all the way to Edoras, Aragorn decided that everybody should get a bit of rest. They could still reach the King's halls early enough the next day, since they made good progress.

Aragorn checked up on his companions, who were sleeping soundly. They deserved it, after all. They barely had any rest when they were hunting for the Orcs, so they were trying to catch up with it.

He looked after the fire too before he turned and walked over to where Gandalf stood, silently watching the blood-red horizon in the east. Mordor was still so far away, and still the crimson sky above Mount Doom send icy chills down the Ranger's spine.

Alex was perched on a boulder nearby, watching the surrounding plains for anything unfriendly. The long hunt hadn't exhausted him at all, but then again, he didn't require sleep.

"The veiling shadow that glowers in the East takes shape", the Wizard stated darkly as soon as Aragorn walked up to him, "Sauron will suffer no Rival. From the summit of Barad-Dûr his eye watches ceaselessly." He threw a side-glance at the Ranger. "But he is not so mighty that he is above fear. Doubt ever gnaws on him. The rumour has reached him: the heir of Númenor still lives." Of course he knew of that. He was the descendant of the one who defeated the Dark Lord in the first place, but Isildur was the past. His actions should mean nothing to the Ranger.

The people should not look to him for guidance, but deep down Aragorn knew that he had to take action to defend the people.

He just didn't want to carry this burden.

So he settled for a frown as Gandalf continued. "Sauron fears you, Aragorn, so he'll strike hard and fast in the world of Men."

He paused, eyes narrowing. "He will use his puppet Saruman to destroy Rohan. War is coming. Rohan must defend itself and therein lies our first challenge, for Rohan is weak and ready to fall. The King's mind is enslaved. It's an old device of Saruman's. His hold over King Théoden is now very strong. Sauron and Saruman are tightening the noose."

"In their arrogance they missed one crucial point", Alex spoke up. "Sauron is watching us now, believing that Frodo is still with us. He won't notice him inside his own kingdom until it is too late." He rolled his shoulders. "Blackwatch taught me how to handle jobs like that. Sneak in a place alone, don't kick up any fuss and they won't even realize something is going on until it is too late. Of course, there are a ton of things that can go wrong, but Frodo might be able to finish this. " The Plague lifted a finger. "However, we have to keep Sauron's eye on us and away from Mordor. If he notices that Frodo is there, the whole thing will become much harder."

"So we will begin with Saruman, then?" Aragorn questioned. "He is Sauron's ally. When he falls, the Dark Lord will be forced to act. In this rush, he will be blind to everything around him."

"Best course of action", Alex agreed, "Except for walking right into Mordor and killing everything, of course."

"We'll call this plan two", Gandalf commented dryly. "At the moment, we have to free the King. This will open a path to us which we have to follow."

"That sounds like a risky gamble", the Plague pointed out. He shook his head. "I'll follow your course of action first, but-" His eyes narrowed. "If things start looking really bad, I will head to Mordor and disassemble them there, draw the armies towards me. It'll a bit risky with Frodo there though, this is why this is going to be the last resort."

"Promise me you won't do anything hasty", Gandalf requested, "One ill-timed act of benevolence might threaten us all."

"Don't worry. I'll hold back. But if I decide that we can't do it differently, I will not listen to anybody."

"Fair enough."

* * *

It was the early day when Alex stopped near a boulder, eyes narrowed as he waited for the other five to catch up with him. It has been a very uneventful morning and ride, though Boromir was complaining the entire way that they better get a few horses more in Edoras. He just didn't like sharing with Legolas.

"Guess that is it?" The virus asked, pointing at the city just a mile or two away from them as soon the horses stopped next to him.

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld", Gandalf explained. "There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Aragorn asked, "Let us end this war."

His companions only nodded in understanding. They continued moving with grim expressions. This was their first step into a downward spiral that would only end with total defeat of either party.

There was no other way.

And Alex was only too aware of this. He had promised to Aragorn to not raze Mordor to the ground immediately. This would accomplish nothing at the moment. They needed the people's support. They had to show them that if they just pulled their own weight instead of waiting for a miracle, they could manage everything.

Like a game, Alex realized, but this wasn't a game. It was bloody reality.

And it was necessary to do this one step at a time, no matter how much the Prototype wished for ending this right there, right now.

The Virus beneath his skin bristled and his head snapped up. His enhanced vision zoomed in on a blonde woman that stood at the giant building at the centre of Edoras. She was staring back at them, watching them approach the city.

"We were just noticed", he told his companions. "Nothing threatening at the moment though."

"I don't like the feeling", Legolas pointed out. "This city is covered by a shadow. Darkness that drains all hope from those within."

Alex hissed when suddenly something moved towards them from a nearly dead angle in his line of vision. He whirled around, ready to pummel whoever sneaked up on them into oblivion, but his rage quickly bled away, replaced by confusion when he realized that is was only a flag that fluttered towards them.

"You are a bit too jumpy", Boromir pointed out.

"Something stinks", Alex admitted as he picked the flag up. It showed a white horse on a green ground. "And I don't like it. I'd like to cave someone's skull in to release this tension."

"There are greater forces at work here", Aragorn muttered darkly, glancing at the flag, "Let us just hope that this is not a bad omen."

As they moved through the city gates, Alex felt his insides twist in irritation. He felt like he was back in Manhattan, and not in the good sense of the word.

He could almost taste the paranoia of those people as they watched them with weary eyes. They quickly moved out of their way as the group rode past them. Alex saw children ushered inside by their worried parents, while every soldier around glared extra hard and reached for their weapons.

They clearly weren't welcomed here.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard", Gimli grunted.

"Compared to the mood here, my father is positively _happy_ ", Legolas said with furrowed brows. "So much sadness...and hopelessness..."

Aragorn snorted half amused at the Elf's comment, though he didn't say anything. It must have been some sort of inside joke, Alex thought and turned his attention to the way they were moving along. It would suck if he accidentally stepped on somebody and killed them.

The people didn't trust them anyways.

So no snacking either, but he had sworn to not touch anybody who didn't deserve it. And these people here, even if they appeared hostile, were just scared and paranoid.

The group went up the hill, passing the city people on the way up. There wasn't a real street to speak of, just trampled soil, but at least it meant he didn't leave behind such craters he usually left behind. It was already bad enough that the people were staring at him since he didn't have a horse and rather jogged along on foot, easily keeping up with the riders.

The way eventually ended in front of a massive wooden building. Gandalf motioned for his companions to stop and dismount while he slid off Shadofax' back. Boromir and Legolas dismounted next, followed by Aragorn, who helped Gimli off Hasufel. Alex merely rolled his shoulders and stretched his back, while keeping the surrounding under observation.

True enough, a group of guards moved towards them. The Prototype could see their clenched hands, set jaws and dark eyes. They were just as paranoid as the people in the city, but these guys had the training and the equipment to take out intruders.

"Halt!" Their leader commanded with a determined voice, "I cannot allow you before Théoden king so armed, Gandalf Grayhame." The man's glare hardened on the wizard and his face scrunched up. "By order of...Gríma Wormtongue", he bit out with disgust. Alex arched his eyebrows at the falter in the man's voice. He almost was in physical pain to express this name. The Blacklight carrier wondered why.

"Ah, of course, Master Háma", Gandalf agreed. He nodded to his companions, who quickly handed all their weapons over to the guards.

The Prototype watched how Legolas handed over his daggers and compound high-tech bow under confused glances of the people there, Boromir handing over sword and shield, and a dagger from his boot, Gimli adding his two axes to the pile, Gandalf handing over his sword and Aragorn piling up a serious amount of knives and daggers on the low table.

The Ranger elbowed the Virus into the side, nodding to _Morn-Galad_. "You still have your blade" he commented.

"Right", the Blacklight carrier noticed. He had really forgotten about it. Ever since he had started using his powers more freely, he found that he didn't need the Elvish Blade. He still held on to it though. It might make a nice present to Dana.

He noticed Aragorn's stare, so he turned slightly irritated to the Ranger. "What?"

"Your hood", the man said, "Please take it off."

"Why?" Alex didn't see the point in removing his hood. He liked it there, and he was in potential enemy territory. He didn't like his foes to know his face.

"Because you look like you are plotting murder when you wear it. Please take it down."

Alex thought about it. Maybe Aragorn was right. But then again, he _was_ a weapon of Mass Destruction, so it was only fair to look that part.

He sighed. Fine, off with the hood then. He pulled it back and blinked at the sudden glare of the sunlight that now bit his eyes.

"Better", Aragorn commented. Alex scowled.

Háma was glancing at Gandalf. "Your Staff", he ordered shortly, holding his hand towards the Wizard. The old man arched his brows and held his staff closer.

"Oh. No, Master Háma", he countered, "You would not part an old man from his walking stick, would you?" He leaned on Legolas' arm to make his point clearer.

The Guard blinked for some long moments. Alex could almost see the gears turn over in his head before they clicked together. Háma shrugged and stepped to the side. "Enter then, please."

So he knew perfectly well that Gandalf just smuggled in a perfectly good weapon, and he still allowed it.

It appeared they found a kindred spirit. Alex wondered whether Háma was this world's version of Cross as he and the group moved past him into the Halls of Meduseld.

The 'Golden Halls' consisted of a large main room with several doors leading to smaller rooms on either side. At the end of the main hall was a small podium in front of a large wall decorated with the tapestries of Rohan. A throne was in the middle of the podium and a very old man with a long white beard sat in it. His eyes were of a murky blue colour, he had mottled skin and claw-like fingers. He looked like he was a hundred years old, maybe older, and was barely holding onto life as he sat there with a crooked posture.

Next to the old man sat a slimy-looking man. His hair was greasy, his skin looked oily, his skin was only a shade darker than Alex' nearly white complexion and with his long robes he looked like he would just ooze away, instead of walking.

The Prototype frowned, wondering whether he should consume the guy out of pity for the others or not, but then he noticed the guards that trailed after them.

The doors slammed shut behind them with a resounding bang, but the companions barely flinched.

They knew they were boxed in and they knew that the guards would probably try to give them Hell. That was fine, they were prepared anyways.

The slimy guy leaned over to the old man, "My Lord", he whispered to the man, but Alex could still hear him. He shuddered involuntarily at the voice, though. "Gandalf the Grey is coming. He is a herald of woe."

The Prototype felt his back shiver. Just listening to that voice gave him a slight case of indigestion that made his stomach roll horribly.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessen of late, King Théoden", Gandalf explained with a clear voice.

"He is not welcome", the slimy guy whispered. Alex shook his shoulders. He was not going to consume that guy, not even if he was in dire need of Biomass.

It would mean having to listen to that voice otherwise.

Forever.

Alex would rather whole-heartedly fuck Greene or take a bath in a Bloodtox tank than having to listen to that voice.

The old coot lifted his head slowly and as if in pain, watching the Wizard with unfocused glassy eyes. "Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" he croaked, though he did glance back at the other guy for confirmation.

"A just question, my liege", the slimy guy agreed. Alex frowned at the display. It was like the guy had the old man right in the palm of his hand, playing him like a cheap fiddle.

The slimy man got up, glaring at Gandalf as he stalked towards them. He tried to appear as important as possible as he set his face in an oily sneer. " _Late_ is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear", he declared, stopping right in front of Gandalf and glaring at the Wizard with his mismatched eyes. "Lathspell I name him", he continued mockingly. "Ill news is in ill guest."

"Be silent!" Gandalf barked, making the slimy guy halt in his motions. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!"

The Wizard lifted his staff, holding it to the front and the slimy guy suddenly backed off with wide eyes. "His staff!" He shrieked in panic, "I told you to take the Wizard's staff!"

The Guards that had tailed them suddenly dove at the group, trying to wrest them to the ground. However, Aragorn and Boromir reacted first and quickly dispatched of two, sending them to the ground with a few well-placed strikes. Legolas whirled and punched one in the face before taking out another guy out with a quick strike to his neck. Gimli tackled a guy right into the stomach, causing him to double over with a groan.

Alex pulled his lips up in a smirk at the show. Well, he didn't get to cave in some heads, but at least he got to beat up some guys.

He just had to be careful to not accidentally splatter them.

So a bit of intimidation was probably going to do the trick. He turned to see Háma hold a guard back from drawing his sword.

"Let him do that, Master Háma", the virus purred with a low rumble. His arms shivered with tendrils before they changed their form to giant bladed talons. Alex watched with satisfaction how the men shied back from his sword-long claws. "Mine are bigger anyways", the Prototype finished, now turned completely to the remaining guards. He fanned his claws out, making the men step back in utter terror.

"Théoden, son of Théngel", Gandalf bellowed as he strode towards the old man, completely oblivious to his companions taking out the other guards. The old man turned his head away, glaring at the Wizard like a stubborn kid "Too long have you sat in the shadows!"

Alex watched how one guard tried to grab Legolas from behind, only for the Elf to snap his fist up and knock the guy on his ass without even sparing him a glance. Then the Prototype's attention shifted to the slimy guy who tried to crawl away from the one-sided fist fight.

"Oh no, you won't", the Virus growled before quickly moving over and closing his giant talons around the man's head without the guy even noticing him move. "You're gonna stay here", Alex purred at him, making sure to slip enough threat into his tone. "If you try anything funny, I might accidentally slip a claw." He made a point by bringing one of those bladed digits close to the man's throat. "You wouldn't like it", he whispered with a low growl, "But a part of me wants you to struggle. Just so I can violently murder you."

"Harken to me!" Gandalf ordered with a loud voice, drawing everybody's attention. They watched as Théoden turned his head slightly towards the Wizard while the companions moved to stand nearby, ready to jump to his protection should it become necessary. Alex kept back, holding the slimy guy captive while also paying careful attention to the men (and women) that drew closer now. They held their distance from him though, giving him a wide berth while also watching the exchange with interest. It appeared they have been aware that the man was under some sort of spell, but seemingly nobody ever bothered with trying to do something against it.

Alex wondered what Gandalf was going to do. He said that the King's mind was entrapped by Saruman, so the Prototype was interested to see how this would play out.

"I release you from the spell", Gandalf continued more gently, lifting his hand to focus his magic.

The old man wheezed at first, but it gradually turned into a dry chuckle. "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey", he croaked out with a wide grin on his face.

Gandalf arched a brow before he grabbed the collar of his grey cloak, throwing it off to reveal his white one beneath. There was a murmur going through the present crowd when Théoden jerked back with a startled gasp. "I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from the wound!" Gandalf commanded with authority in his tone as he aimed his staff at the old man. Théoden slammed back into his throne and writhed as if in pain, his crooked fingers dug into the wood as he squirmed.

There was a startled gasp nearby. Alex immediately noticed that it was out of place in the surprised crowd, since it was one more of fear for the old man than from the display of Gandalf's powers. A blonde woman- _the_ blonde woman he noticed when they arrived at Edoras- darted towards the old man, dodging around Alex and his captive, nearly bowled over Gimli before Aragorn seized her arm and stopped her, pulling her back against his chest so she wouldn't interfere.

The woman squirmed, trying to free herself, but the Ranger held on, though he did nod his head towards the throne to show her what was going on.

"If I go", Théoden garbled in a voice that _did not_ sound like Théoden, "Théoden dies!"

Alex narrowed his eyes. So this was _not_ Théoden, but rather Saruman _possessing_ the King.

Gandalf yanked his staff up, forcing the King further back in his throne, where he squirmed against the invisible power. "You did not kill me", Gandalf snapped at Saruman, "You will not kill him!"

The wood groaned beneath the sheer amount of force as Gandalf tried to drive Saruman out. "Rohan is mine!" the other Wizard snarled angrily.

"Be gone!" Gandalf hissed. Théoden suddenly lunged at the Wizard with a snarl, only for Gandalf to thrust his staff into his direction, sending him slamming back into his throne. Théoden sagged together like a marionette without strings, moaning slightly in pain while Gandalf had to catch his breath first. Aragorn finally let go of the blonde woman, so she could now run to the king and catch him before he would tumble to the ground.

Alex watched surprised how the man simply de-aged by half a century. His wrinkles vanished, his skin became a healthy tone, his hair turned golden again and even the length of his beard shortened remarkably.

' _Fucking Magic'_ The Prototype scowled deep and curled his claws together, though the whimper emitting from beneath his talons reminded him that he still held the slimy guy.

He couldn't really squash his head if the people here just got their King back.

So instead, Alex settled for simply holding the guy captive while he watched the King stare at the woman with recognition flitting over his face. "I know your face", he whispered, "Èowyn!" The woman beamed at him and hugged him tightly, despite the fact that he was the king and she wasn't.

But apparently, she was just too relieved to pay attention to rules at the moment. The king returned her embrace before he turned his attention to the others.

"Gandalf?" He asked confused.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend", the Wizard told him with a gentle smile.

Théoden looked around before he slowly rose to his feet, seeing all of his men standing before him.

"Dark have been my dreams of late", he muttered before he threw a glance at his hand, spreading his fingers and grabbing empty air as if he just noticed that he had some strength left.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better, if they grasped your sword", Gandalf explained as Háma hurried towards his king and offered him a sheathed sword.

Théoden carefully took the proffered blade and pulled it free easily, watching his reflection on the glistening metal. He marvelled its shape and his own reflection before his glare darkened and he settled his eyes upon the cowering man who was held in giant talons. Théoden glanced at Alex for several long seconds, seemingly trying to figure out whether he was a threat or not, until he stepped to the front, fixing the Prototype with a commandeering Glare.

"Remove him from my Halls, Demon", he ordered with a sharp tone that made his subordinates shy back in case the 'Demon' didn't comply and would rather decide to have the King's head.

Alex, however, only inclined his head, watching the King carefully. He could remove this slimy piece of human crap from the Halls, either permanently (but the _stains_ wouldn't go out of the stone floor), or less permanently, but then again...what would it do for Théoden?

So the Prototype surprised the crowd by stepping back, letting his claws hang loosely by his sides.

"Oh no", he claimed. He crossed his arms defiantly, watching Théoden. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but that isn't my job to do."

Théoden stared at him with an unreadable expression and Alex met it unfazed. "This pile of excrement didn't poison _my_ mind over all those years, king", he explained slowly. "As much I wish for doing nothing more than _violently murder_ him for what he has done to everybody around, it is not _my_ job." The Prototype pointed his claw at the king. "He's _yours_ , King Théoden. Do whatever you want with him."

* * *

With a quite powerful thrust, Háma and another guard threw the slimy guy down the stairs and out of Meduseld. The man rolled down the staircase until he stopped on a platform in-between. The man rolled over, groaning in pain until he noticed Théoden approach him with his sword drawn. "I only ever served you, my Lord!" he wailed while crawling backwards.

Théoden was stomping towards him. "Your leechcraft would have me crawling on all four like a beast!" He seethed, drawing even closer.

Alex, though not intending to finish the oily man off, had still followed after the angry king. This man had caused a lot of troubles, betrayed the people of Rohan and sold them to Saruman. He deserved nothing better than death. But he wasn't going to take it from Théoden.

"Send me not from you side!" the slimy guy whimpered. Théoden growled and lifted his sword over his head, ready to strike the man down.

The Prototype narrowed his eyes. _'Go on. Kill him. That guy deserves no better.'_

In that moment, however, Aragorn lunged at the king, shouting "No my Lord!" He stopped Théoden from striking down the one that enslaved his mind, and was utterly unaffected by his poisonous glare.

"No my Lord", Aragorn continued with a lowered voice. "Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

Alex could see Théoden sober up as he turned his gaze towards the Ranger. Too bad. It looked like he had to do the human's dirty work again.

Aragorn had turned to the slimy man, holding out his hand in a gesture of forgiveness.

' _Aragorn, you are too damn nice for this world. This fucker doesn't deserve anything other than a quick, messy death.'_

His Biomass began to squirm and crawl across the floor like living shadows. Within moments it had reached the slimy man and began immediately to wrap around his ankles. The guy noticed it, jerking back as black tendrils instantly snaked over his body and latching onto his flesh, snapping his arms against his torso and pulling tight knots.

The man wheezed in panic, trying to wriggle his way out of the hold, but his struggle only made the tendrils hold tighter. The people of Edoras flinched back, staring in shock at the display.

Except for Aragorn.

The Ranger shot to the front, grabbing a handful of the black and red mass and pulling against it. "Stop this", he snapped, whipping his head around to let the Prototype see his fierce glare. "Leave him alone. We can not need any more deaths!"

" _You_ say so", Alex replied with a low growl, stepping to the front. The crowd gasped as they realized that the black tentacles that were holding the traitor captive were actually growing from his flesh. Several more tendrils ran over his body and coiled in the air. " _I know_ what happens if you don't take care of traitors." His Biomass pulled tighter, nearly breaking the man in half. "They come back and _stab you in the back_ , Aragorn!"

"We don't kill unarmed men", Aragorn hissed at the Virus. "Leave him alone. Let him go. He is banished from Rohan. He will never harm anybody again."

Alex held his glare for several long moments before he snorted. He stepped back, releasing the slimy guy and pulling his Biomass back into himself.

"You're lucky, punk", he snarled at the man, "Aragorn is a much better person than any of us. I'm letting you go. _This time_."

The slimy guy was on his feet and out of the city faster than anybody else. They watched him escape. "You are going to regret letting him go", Alex growled under his breath.

"You cannot judge everybody as you see it fit", Aragorn reminded him. "And none of us will murder a man who is unable to defend himself. It is what makes us different from monsters."

Alex scowled deep, but he still nodded in understanding. He wasn't going to be any more monster than he had to be.

And if it meant sparing scum, then so be it.

Aragorn had turned his attention to the crowd of city people at the base of the stairs. He lifted his hand and picked his voice up.

"Hail, Théoden King!"

Like dominoes, the people knelt down, bowing their heads to the old man. Théoden blinked in surprise as even Aragorn lowered his head in front of him.

The King blinked again, watching even the Demon bend his knees to him.

Everybody was here, showing him just how much they loved and honoured him and still...

Someone was still missing.

"Where is Théodred?" Théoden eventually asked. "Where is my son?"


	16. To Helm's Deep

**Author: Original Updated on 7th March 2016, New Version on 7th August 2016. I wanted to get it done earlier, but then my Laptop decided to die on me, requiring me to work from the back-up data I had. Let this be a lesson: Always make back-up data on an external drive.  
Also, beware. Alex is using a few choice words here. Which is okay, as long he doesn't use the F-Bomb too often like other Prototypes. Looking at you, Heller. Dude, I love you, but please go and wash your mouth with some soap, will you?  
**

* * *

To Helm's Deep

A group of soldiers bore the lifeless body of Théodred on a bier made of spears. They carried the late heir to Rohan slowly towards the royal tomb to bring him to his last rest. Théoden followed after them, his expression stony and unreadable. Aragorn, Gandalf, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli and a few of the King's men were walking behind the whole procession.

The trek moved through the narrow passage the townsfolk created, but nobody said a word.

There were occasional sniffles or chokes, but other than that only the fluttering flags made some sort of background noise.

Alex watched the entire thing with the same unreadable expression he usually wore. He had trailed after Aragorn and the bier more out of a sense of courtesy than having any real connection.

This concept of mourning was alien to the Virus. Sure, Alex did have memories of funerals, he did remember losing somebody dear to him, but all of those weren't _his_ thoughts.

 _Alex Mercer_ , as he was here, had no clue what to do. He was aware that all of the people here were here out of courtesy for their king and his family, even if they didn't necessarily knew the man. It was simple respect, and he should honour it as well and try to play along.

However, with all those people around, with so many heartbeats and warm bodies, Alex found it hard to concentrate on the burial.

It was quite sickening really. All those people here, they mourned for the dead heir of the land while hunger was dominating the Prototype's mind.

He snorted, trying to shut out the memories and thoughts of his own mind. Despite all the deaths he caused, all the people he slaughtered, he never stopped once to think about what happened to those his victims left behind.

He didn't feel any shred of remorse for it. He was a virus, a monster that killed humans, why should he feel sorry for his food?

The part of him that clung to humanity to control Blacklight told him repeatedly that he should feel sorrow for all those lives he took, for all those children he left orphan.

But he didn't feel anything.

Alex exhaled coldly, inching backwards into the crowd to get away and clear his thoughts. He couldn't stay around any longer and pretend to be something he wasn't.  
The people didn't notice him pushing past them, though he did feel Aragorn's stare on his back.

He heard Èowyn pick up her voice, singing in her native tongue. A few of the people around choked back a sob, irritating the Virus. All of them, _weak_.

They shouldn't despair in face of the death of one man, they should prepare their goddamn armies to avenge his death.

They shouldn't weep, they should _fight_.

Instead they whimpered in fear. Like _prey_.

They were weak, and the weak would always be food to the stronger ones.

Like The Uruk-Hai of Saruman.

Like him.

Alex scowled as he picked up his speed. Thinking of food maybe wasn't the best idea inside a crowd of perfectly edible people. Even if the human part of him baulked at the idea to inflict damage upon the civilians here, the part that was the virus didn't care at all.

So he slipped out of the crowd and began walking away from Edoras. He would keep his distance for a while and clear his head while Aragorn decided what they were going to do next. If the Ranger needed him, the Prototype would be there.

His Biomass coiled in irritation, demanding something to consume. Being stuck with too many people was possible for Alex, but only for a short amount of time. Humans were still his main source of Biomass, no matter what his head said. And being in a crowd like that had left him wanting more.

Alex scowled a bit deeper. _'Tough luck'_ , he thought to himself, _'You won't be getting any human. Deal with it.'_

But the Virus was still rolling in his stomach. He really should appease it and find some Orcs to consume.

Or some animals.

His enhanced senses picked up faint clatter of hooves and his body turned into that direction without input from him. It didn't come from inside the city and it wasn't accompanied by more hooves, so it wasn't an army returning or any of the local horses.

Good enough for him.

Alex really couldn't hold back. Blacklight wanted food, and it wanted it now, so the Prototype headed straight into the direction of the horse approaching.

He was already half-way in preparing himself to tear into the animal and feed off it when he skidded to a halt, eyes wide at the sight in front of him.

A horse was approaching, but with it was the only thing that could snap him from a hunger-induced frenzy as long his mind wasn't gone too far.

 _Children_

Alex' hunger was immediately forced back into the confinements of his own mind, letting his rational part take control.

He couldn't kill, couldn't consume when children were present. Maybe it was what was left of his humanity, maybe it was what was inside him left of Greene and her desire to get her own son back.

But in Manhattan, every time he found himself near uninfected children, he couldn't harm them or anybody close to them. All he could do was fend off the infected (if there were any) and move away from them. One particular encounter had burnt itself into his mind: When he had been in dire need of Biomass from a Thermobaric Shell, he found himself frozen and unable to feed when a small dirty kid came around the corner of an alley.

He had then risked his very life getting the kid to Ragland's Morgue before he could finally get away and replenish his Biomass.

Whatever it was, it had saved the kid's life in Manhattan, and it saved the life of these two here in Edoras.  
The Prototype narrowed his eyes, watching the kids ride closer. It was an older boy and a younger girl, both hanging more or less lifeless in the saddle. Still, they tried to hold on, but they looked too weak.

The boy began to sway, and Alex was moving.

Before the kid hit the ground, the Prototype had effortlessly caught him out of mid-fall. In the same motion, he had spun around and latched onto the panicking horse with his Tendrils to stop the animal from bucking out of control.

The little girl was crying loudly, whimpering in fear from the black snake-like tentacles that wrapped around the shrieking horse.

Alex mentally punched himself for scaring them like this. So he held the boy a bit closer to his chest, rubbing his back soothingly as he went and murmured a few Elvish words at the mare he heard Legolas say to the Pony Bill. The animal calmed down, though its eyes were still blown wide. Alex released his Tendril's hold, instead shifting his arm back into a normal human hand to grab the reins tightly.

"Èothain!" the little girl wept near his shoulder, holding to the saddle in fear, "Èothain! Where are you? Are you alright?"

The boy gave a dry wheeze, struggling a bit so his sister could see him. He was uninjured. A bit scared, but fine otherwise.

"'I'm fine, Freda", the kid said with a slightly strained voice. He grabbed Alex' jacket, clinging to the Prototype as if his life depended on it. "What about you?"

"I'm fine too", the girl sniffled. "But I'm scared." Her big eyes turned to Alex. "Are you going to hurt us?"

"I will not", the Virus gave back without thinking. His tone must have scared the kids, so he tried to continue as soothingly as possible. "I'm sorry for scaring you, but I wanted to make sure you won't get hurt."

"We have to- to warn the king", Èothain claimed with a breatheless voice, "Mother send us here because Garold isn't strong enough to carry us all." He sobbed, "Our village was attacked. Mother is gone. We have to tell the king."

Alex furrowed his brows, hearing the little girl start whimper too. It was obvious that these two have been riding without pause, and both looked dehydrated from their escape.

His lips peeled away from his teeth as he growled in anger into the direction the children came from. He might be a monster, but he would _never_ harm children or ransack a town for no other reason than the sake of destruction.

He felt the boy shiver in fear against his shoulder.

"Let's get you to Edoras", the Virus declared, much to the surprise of the children, "You can rest there and tell the king what happened."

* * *

Aragorn was watching his friend who sat at the table and was glaring darkly at nothing in particular. Alex had returned with two hungry and terrified children not too long ago and had gruffly requested to get food and water for them. The Ranger had no idea what had transpired, but the walking Plague had told them that he found the children outside and brought them in. Now the two of them were in the King's hall and hungrily eating the food Èowyn had brought them. The little girl was holding tightly to the Blacklight's hand as she ate at a less enthusiastic pace than her brother, who told them grave news of the Westfold.

They told them that evil people and 'black ugly men' attacked their village, burnt it to the ground and hurt a lot of the villagers. Their mother had put them on their father's horse Garold and told them to ride to the city to tell the King.

Aragorn had understood immediately what they had meant: Wild Men and Uruks have ransacked their home, and have most likely destroyed more settlements on the way.

The hollow screech Alex' claw made as he slowly dragged them through the table's surface made his frustration clear, but the little girl only held his unchanged hand tighter. The Plague had come to the same conclusion as the Ranger did, and he was downright _furious_.

Théoden had his face hidden behind his hand as he reflected on the children's story. Gandalf was seated next to the king's throne, occupying the place Gríma Wormtongue had used all those years before. His brows were drawn together, yet he didn't speak up at the moment.

Legolas was nearby, leaned against one of the support pillars and watching the scene, while Gimli ate some food to calm his nerves. Aragorn and Boromir sat opposite of the dwarf and listened. Aragorn was smoking his pipe, while Boromir was ripping his bread into crumbs and dropped them on his plate without saying anything.

Èowyn glared at the fresh groves in the table from her position kneeling next to the boy before she stood up, tousling the child's hair. Her expression was concerned, though.

"They had no warning", she explained, "They were unarmed. Now the Wildmen are moving through Westfold, burning as they go, every rick, cot and tree."

"Where's mama?" Freda asked worried. Aragorn could see Alex flinch slightly and watch the girl worried, before he pulled a blanket over her little shoulders in calming manner.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash", Gandalf explained. "All the more potent for he is driven mad by the fear of Sauron." His blue eyes burrowed into the King's. "Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight."

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak", Aragorn added. "Èomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king." He noticed Alex frown deeply, but he didn't say anything yet.

Théoden stood up swiftly, face set in a dark expression. "They will be three hundred leagues away from here by now!" He declared, "Èomer cannot help us!" He stopped in the middle of the room, turning to watch the others. "I know what is that you want of me", he pointed out, halting Gandalf in his tracks as he got up to speak to him once more. "But I would not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

"Open War is upon you", Aragorn argued, "Whether you risk it or not."

Théoden turned and glared at him. "When I last looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was the King of Rohan."

Gandalf stepped towards him. "Then what is the king's decision?"

* * *

Aragorn glared darkly against the rising sun. He heard Háma's voice behind them, ordering the people that had already come here from other settlements to get whatever supplies they could carry and leave the city to head to Helm's Deep.

They were fleeing from the armies of Isengard.

 _Fleeing_ and not _fighting_.

"Helm's Deep!" Gimli scoffed when the group followed Gandalf to the stables. "They flee to the mountains when they should stay and fight! Who will defend them if not their king?"

The Dwarf said out loud what Aragorn was thinking. What all of them were thinking.

Boromir inclined his head, watching the Dwarf. "He is only doing what he thinks is best for the people", he pointed out. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."

"There is no way out of that ravine", Gandalf explained darkly as they reached the box Shadowfax resided in, "Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety, but what he'll get is a massacre."

Aragorn swallowed, looking uncertain. "Théoden has a strong hold", Gandalf continued, "But I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan." The Ranger tried to keep calm, to push down the feeling of uneasiness that threatened to twist his stomach, though he couldn't help but feel responsible for this entire situation.

"He will need you before the end, Aragorn", Gandalf declared. "The people of Rohan will need you. The defences have to hold."

"They will hold", Alex' gruff voice cut in.

Aragorn threw him a quick glance. The Plague had quickly sided with Théoden and his decision to gather the refugees in Helm's Deep. It had surprised his companions, since Alex was usually the first to go for the direct way.

The hooded man glanced at his companions, frowning at their questioning expressions.

"Seriously? You still haven't figured out?" He asked, "You all would have voted for this 'Fighting on the Fields of Honour' crap?"

Aragorn heard Boromir inhale to reply to the Plague, when Alex arched his eyebrows. "Really? You would have went out there and gotten your ass kicked for _what_?! Honour?" Despite himself, Alex chuckled. "And people say _I'm_ crazy."

His voice dropped as he crossed his arms and glared at them darkly. "Saruman as _thousands_ of Uruk-Hai, Orcs and those Dunelding Assholes, we have what- Three hundred people _at best_? Even with Èomer and his two thousand riders- given the case they actually _reach us on time_ \- we can not do much against an army like that." He waved his arms. "Out in the open, these bastards are going to pick you off with their archers before you get into striking range. And even if you do, you just get overwhelmed by their forces."

"What about you? Are you not going to fight by our side?" Gimli asked.

Alex threw him an incredulous look. "I never said I won't, but the thing is- I am _alone_. I can not be _everywhere_. Besides", His scowl darkened, "If I start mincing these bastards, they'll just take a detour and stab you in the back while making me swipe at nothing."

Aragorn's eyebrows shot up, yet he remained silent. "Also", the Plague continued, "What about the civilians here? Just imagine- all of the soldiers gone, fighting a suicidal battle- what do you think is going to happen to the people, huh? Saruman's armies are going to _slaughter_ them!" He shook his head. "Any position that is marginally safer _than a rock in the wide open_ is good enough for me. Good enough for the civilians."

"So you will head to Helm's Deep then?"

"I will. And if none of you are going to help me, then fuck it- I'll do it _myself_."

"We can't let you have all the glorious blood bath", Gimli threw in. "Fine. If that's how you want to do this, let's do it."

"How are you planning on fighting an army like that?" Gandalf questioned, now speaking up after being silent for so long.

"It's a ravine, right?" Alex wanted to know, "With massive cliffs on both sides and the fortress opposite of the entrance."

Aragorn inhaled deeply. "Then what is your plan?"

The Plague smirked unpleasantly. "Simple. I go to the front, stop them at the entrance, rough 'em up and lower their morale." He frowned for a short moment. "Of course, there is going to be a shitload of them that will slip past me to try to attack the defenders, but hopefully they will be terrified and out of their minds so they won't be able to continue fighting effectively. Then the defenders can pick 'em off one by one."

"This is insane!" Boromir yelled appalled, "You alone against an _army_?! You are going to get killed!"

Alex arched his eyebrows. "Boromir", he explained very slowly, "I am a virus. A _plague_ in the shape of a human. I was never really alive to begin with." He shrugged, letting a wide grin appear on his face. "My armour is enough to protect me and even if they somehow manage to injure me- I could just _eat_ a few of them and be fine afterwards."

Boromir blinked, as if he had forgotten that the man was not a real man.

"Still", Aragorn pointed out, "It will not be as easy as you try to make it seem."

"The Uruks could also retreat and try to attack from a different position", Legolas added.

"I admit, my plan's a bit rough around the edges, but I do hope we can limit the casualties on our side as much as possible." Alex narrowed his eyes. "I will _not_ allow any of you to be harmed in any way. I will not leave anybody alive if they hurt any of you. That is my promise."

Gandalf nodded grimly. "Then so it shall be", he stated as he climbed atop Shadowfax. "Good Luck. My search will not be in vain", he explained. "Look to my coming, at first light, on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East."

Aragorn nodded curtly before he stepped to the side. Shadowfax kicked the ground and barrelled out of the stables, dashing through the city of Edoras and quickly vanishing at the horizon.

"C'mon", Alex finally grunted, "Let's get the refugees ready."

* * *

It would take two days for the trek to reach Helm's Deep. Two days. Alex scowled because they were going to move through open terrain for this entire time and with so many old people, women and children, it would be a logistical nightmare even if they had some APCs to transport them. Without any sort of armoured vehicle, the people were defenceless and slow, relying completely on the few soldier Théoden had with him for protection.

Alex had to grit his teeth and get through this. After all, he had told the others that they had to get the people to safety first before they could try to take out the armies of Saruman. There was no backing out now.

So he was going to be extra focused on their surroundings and keep an eye open for anything looking unfriendly, ready to take out any opposition on a moment's notice.

He didn't owe it to those people. In fact, all that was Blacklight demanded him to feed on these humans and create his own Hive, taking over all of Middle Earth with no trouble. But he didn't give in to his instincts. Instead, he tried to behave like any good person and help these people here to safety.

Dana would be so proud of him.

The two kids he had met before were tailing after him like lost puppies, Freda was nestled securely in the crook of his arm and Èothain held to his hand tightly. Both children were wary of him and did flinch back when a curious tendril latched onto them, but they refused to let the virus go. Whatever has happened back in their village must have been horrible enough that they sought sanctuary with a thing entirely composed of tentacles, claws and an overall bad mood rather than trying to return home.

Alex glanced at the Rohirrim flanking the Trek, keeping a watchful eye on the plains themselves. It weren't so many and if there was something going to happen, then they would be ridiculously outmatched. The Plague just hoped that Saruman's host would not reach them when they were this vulnerable.

He really did.

Because then he wouldn't be able to promise anything. No safety for the people from either the Uruks or himself.

The refugees were mostly silent, panicked glances whipping around to watch the area around them as if they expected the Uruks to jump at them any given minute. Alex couldn't blame them. Most of these people have lost their homes and everything they owned, having only barely escaped with their lives. And once they have reached the safe haven of Edoras on the skin of their teeth, the King ordered them to continue to Helm's Deep.

They believed in him and thus none of them asked questions as they continued moving.

But fear sat in their bones, following them like a shadow. They didn't know whether they would survive this conflict at all.

They wondered whether all was lost.

Galadriel was right. They just needed to get their heads out of their asses and realize that if they would just use their damn brains once in a while they would be able to survive anything.

Armies ransacking your towns? Hide in the forests and attack them Guerrilla-style. Destroy their supplies, attack them from behind, poison their water... All of this would work against Uruks.

But no. These humans were too cowardly to do anything.

Almost like the people of Manhattan.

The sociopathic part of him that was Doctor Mercer wanted to leave all of them behind, because this wasn't his world or his problem, and seriously. Fuck them all.

The part that was the Virus demanded him to cull the weak and build an empire on their corpses.

But the dominant part of Alex just wanted to see Sauron and Saruman fail epically. He wanted to hear their whimpers before he would crush them beneath his heel.

And for this, he decided to do the most brain-dead and illogical choice he could think of: Fight along with the humans, fight _like_ a human and hurt these bastards where it hurt most: In their dignity. He had experienced first-hand how it feels to be brought down by something so far beneath the own level, when Cross defeated him in that Hive.

The Prototype scowled, tendrils lashing out of his skin. They did that a lot, lately. Everything pissed him off.

But to utterly destroy Saruman and Sauron it was necessary to take baby steps.

He would play along.

For now.

* * *

This was the only pause along the way. Aragorn glanced at the setting sun, knowing that the night was going to be the most terrible time of the entire trek.

He exhaled coldly and crossed his legs beneath his body, watching the fugitives around them.

The Ranger's gaze slowly wandered over all those desperate faces, all those people afraid of what was to come. He knew that their chances of survival were slim...but then again, Alex had been right when he denied them to ride to battle against the armies of Saruman. They would have all died against the sheer amount of soldiers the White Wizard has under his command.

Fighting in the Ravine of Helm's Deep had the advantage of having to fight only a few enemies at the same time, not all of them from every direction.

But still, it wasn't going to be easy. And a lot of people were going to die.

So he found his way back to the hooded man's side. "I wanted to speak to you", he told him.

Alex merely inclined his head, turning his gaze away from the two children playing with other children to the Ranger.

"It's about your strategy for the defence of Helm's Deep", Aragorn continued, sitting down besides the man. "I don't think you can manage all of this on your own."

The Plague only arched his eyebrows. "And I thought I made it clear that I'm practically immortal. Look- no matter what they do to me, I can easily heal right back up and continue fighting."

"It is this whole situation", Aragorn cut in. "If you cut them off on the entrance to the Ravine, then they will just come in from the side and overwhelm us."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Fine", he gave in, "Then I'll start the killing and you just shoot arrows. Shoot anything you can- I won't mind." He paused. "Maybe we could just put Legolas on a high position with infinite arrows and let him sort it out."

The Ranger blinked slowly. "I don't think..." he began, but was cut off by a surprisingly heavy hand clapping his shoulder.

"Aragorn. You worry too fucking much. It's either do or die, there is no other option."

"These are not very good options."

"Then don't die. It's as simple as that", the Plague pointed out. "You know, if you die, if everybody else dies, the Uruks will go at the civilians next and wipe them out. So just don't die."

"It isn't that simple!" Aragorn snapped.

"It is", Alex gave back. "Just kill these bastards before they kill you, and if they do- take as many as you can with them." The Ranger saw his eyes narrowing by a hair's width. "You are too occupied with the entire picture, Aragorn", the Plague told him, "You are too fixated on this entire mess. Don't do this."

The Ranger frowned. "What do you mean?"

"For God's sake, I mean you try to carry all the burdens on your own. It isn't your fault if those people die, because if they had any shred of self-consciousness left, they would hide in the Fangorn Forest and wait till the Uruks get bored. Instead they decide to come with us and try their best in Helm's Deep, so if they die, it was their choice, not yours." Alex crossed his arms, glaring at the man. "You try to make up for what Isildur did, and you try to be just like him- but you _aren't_ Isildur. _You_ are not to blame for what he did, Aragorn."

"I am his last living heir."

"So what? He died _three thousand_ years ago. History is nice, but it isn't reason to live in it. _You_ are Aragorn of the Rangers, not only Isildur's heir. What you are going to do is what you _want_ to do deep inside, not what others _expect_ you to do." The Blacklight scowled deeply. "You are fighting for those people here because _you_ decided to. Otherwise, you would have ditched us in Rivendell."

"But all of this", Aragorn admitted, sinking down next to the Plague, "It is too much. So much that could go wrong, so much suffering."

"Eyes on the prey, not the horizon", Alex claimed. "Let's not lose the immediate target out of your eyes- We have to get to Helm's Deep. Actually _fighting_ in Helm's Deep is the next step."

Aragorn watched his friend for a few long moments. Eyes on the prey, not the horizon. Don't linger on what is to come.

The Ranger's lips twitched up into a smile. "Break it into smaller pieces, make it easier to manage", he concluded. "I think I can work with that."

"Stress is bad for the body", Alex added. "Let's just take care of the immediate problems."

"I still think your plan is a bad idea."

"Hey, I wouldn't dare to bite off more than I can chew- but I can chew a whole lot", he reminded him. "You just have to make sure that you get your people to actually shoot at the Uruks once they reach the walls."

He paused, looking up to see Èowyn move towards them, holding a large pot. She offered some to Gimli, who suddenly jerked back and hastily excused himself. The shieldmaiden frowned for a moment, but then turned to approach them. "I made some stew", she declared happily, "It isn't much, but it's hot."

The Ranger blinked, but then held out his hands. It was impolite to deny a lady's hard work to prepare food for them. Èowyn smiled and handed him a steaming bowl.

"Thank you" Aragorn glanced at the milky white...matter that floated inside a foggy liquid, but still took a spoonful of it.

He regretted it in an instant. His tongue burned and felt strangely numb at the same time. His stomach rolled horribly in fear of what might happen, but still, he swallowed the mouthful he had taken.

He was not so desperate to spit it out.

His insides disagreed and twisted violently, feeling as if they set themselves on fire.

"Mhmm" The Ranger struggled to say, "It's good." He didn't want to hurt Èowyn's feelings, even if his intestines begged him to throw the stew away as far as possible.

"Really?" The woman seemed delighted. Aragorn nodded painfully and tried to blink away the tears that threatened to spill, but he caught a glimpse of Alex' smirking face. "Mmm"

Èowyn beamed and turned to go, when Aragorn hastily shoved the bowl into Alex' hands.

"Whatever happened to 'It's good'?" The Plague asked with a grin. Of course. Aragorn wouldn't be too surprised to learn that he could read minds too.

"Shut it. You eat _Orcs_ ", the Ranger hissed. Alex arched an eyebrow at him and shoved the spoon into his own mouth, not even changing his expression as he swallowed the stew without complaint. "Point made", Aragorn muttered, wishing desperately to clean out the foul taste from his palate with anything really. He would even kiss an Uruk-Hai to forget the stew.

Just as he tried to choke out whatever had reached his stomach, Èowyn turned back around towards them, forcing him to abandon his endeavour with a dry wheeze. Luckily, the shieldmaiden watched the hooded man eat up all the stew in that bowl.

"I asked him to let me taste", Alex said calmly, nudging the Ranger's shoulder. The woman nodded and frowned at Aragorn. "My uncle told me a strange thing", she said slowly, "He said that you rode to war with Théngel, my grandfather. But he must be mistaken."

Aragorn shrugged. "King Théoden has a good memory. He was only a small child at the time."

Èowyn stared at him in surprise. "Then you must be at least sixty! Seventy? But you cannot be eighty!"

The Ranger grinned. "I'm eighty-seven, actually. I'm of the Dúnedain, a descendant of Númenor. Blessed with a long life."

"And I'm cursed with giant claws and massive hunger", Alex cut in, gesturing for the pot. "The pot, if you would."

Èowyn tilted her head, but handed the pot over anyways. Aragorn watched in morbid fascination as the hooded man held the stew and sunk his tendrils inside, devouring the hot liquid within moments.

"There", he grinned at the shieldmaiden. "All gone. Now, if you were so kind to make the kids go to sleep, that would be great."

Èowyn watched him warily, eyeing the shadows flicking over his surface in random ripples. "What are you?" She finally asked, taking the empty pot, "You had those talons and serpents before...and now this?"

"I'm a monster", the Plague explained with a shrug. "I'm on your side, though, because I find it more amusing to slaughter Orcs than slaughter people. No offence; but you guys are a tad too squishy for my liking."

Èowyn stared at him for a moment before glancing at Aragorn. "You have strange allies", she told him. "Now then, I will see to the children and make sure they can rest well through the night."

She turned to go when Alex dropped against the grass with a groan, his entire body squirming. "Dear God", he whimpered, "I was afraid she would never leave."

"I take it you didn't take the stew she made too well?" Aragorn asked sympathetically.

"One thing for sure", the Plague replied, "Whoever is going to marry her will have to find someone else to cook for them. This stuff- it's like liquid _Bloodtox_."

"Then why did you drain it all?"

"I didn't want you guys to suffer through it", Alex admitted.

"You are a true hero", Aragorn deadpanned.

"Shut it, jerk."

* * *

The night had been quiet enough. Nothing had disturbed the Refugees except for a single mangy fox that had stalked too close and startled a horse on its quest to find something to eat. Alex eyed the sky, watching the pale clouds above them. It looked like rain.

Alex frowned. He didn't like rain.

He felt Èothain pull on his hand, so he turned his attention to the boy.

"Why are you looking at the sky?"

"The clouds look like it'll rain", the Virus replied. "I don't like rain." _Renders my favorite stomping grounds inaccessible._

"Does it hurt you?" The kid asked surprised. Freda was tagging along holding hands with her brother, leaving the Prototype's other hand free and the tendrils rushing over it plainly visible.

"It doesn't", Alex replied. "I just don't like it-" He cut himself off, eyes narrowing.

Something wasn't right.  
He whipped his head to the side, watching Legolas who stodd off to the side, watching the horizon. Alex knew the Elf couldn't see that far because they were moving along a rather hilly area, and there were massive blind spots that would allow an entire army to hide from his eyes.

The perfect spot for an ambush.  
"Èothain", Alex growled. "Stay here and keep an eye on your sister." He stepped to the front, his arm shifting as he changed it briefly into a flurry of tendrils to lose the kid clinging to him. He heard the boy's startled gasp, but at least he didn't start whimpering. "Something's going on", the Prototype growled. "I'll be back."

Alex quickly jogged off, noticing Háma and one of the other guards of Théoden, Gamling, ride to the side and towards a few huge boulders jutting out of the grass. The virus gave a bristle of alarm, though he couldn't say why. Something lingered at the edge of his consciousness. The two men didn't seem to acknowledge his presence anyways, too busy to talk to each other as the Blacklight carrier drew closer. They did, however, notice their horses neighing nervously.

"What is it, Háma?" Gamling asked surprised as the horse stomped the ground and tried to back away.

"I'm not sure", Háma gave back.

That was when Alex' head snapped up, eyes narrowing. His nose picked up a foul stench coming from too close.

This was the curse of having as finely tuned senses as he had. With so many horses and people who never heard of the word 'shower' before around, he had troubles picking up individual scents. But now this particular smell was easily noticeable.

He _felt_ the attacker before he even saw him and was moving in front of the two Rohirrim before they even became aware of the danger.

He watched a large hyena-like beast peek over the edge of the boulder and giving a silent snarl before it pounced right towards Háma.

The virus was faster.

Within the blink of an eye, he had leapt from the floor (staggering the horses) and met the attacking beast. Without any thoughts about its fangs, he slammed one fist so deep into its maw, it exited its skull on the other side in a sickening crunch of bones and flesh before he even hit the floor again.

Something sharp dug into his shoulder, making him blink in irritation at the small Orc ( _Goblin_ some Uruk-Hai in his head said) that sat on the wolf-beast and had the guts to stick a sword in him.

The Virus narrowed his eyes, tendrils slamming into the beast beneath him and tearing it to pieces as its carcass was melted down and dragged into his body for a quick snack. He heard Háma and Gamling made an alarmed and disgusted noise at the back of their throats, but at the moment, his attention was on the Goblin. The creature looked shocked, but wasn't able to do anything as Alex' free hand shifted into talons and slammed into its face with his fingers digging into the sides of its skull, securing it there. The small Orc twisted and tried to break free, its clawed hands going to his arm to try pry it off, but even a Super Soldier could not break this grip on him, so this thing would have no luck either.

Alex' other arm wrenched the sword out of his shoulder, changed into another talon and crumpling the crude weapon in his fist to scrap metal while he glared at the Goblin.

There were probably more of these guys around, and he _really_ wanted to try out whatever he had done back at the Amon Hen- if the guys back there _blew up_ , then he really wanted to know _how_ \- and trying to grab another Orc was going to be a waste of time because he already had such a _willing_ individual here.

Also, he really wanted to know whether he could read somebody's memories _without_ killing them.

Since he didn't get any information if he splattered someone's brain, he assumed that the virus was able to _read_ the very structure of the grey matter and reconstruct memories and thoughts from the shape of the organ in itself.

It was worth a try.

The Goblin jerked back as several tendrils dug through its skull and latch onto its brain, then it started to thrashing in pain as Blacklight slipped across its synapses.

But it worked like a charm. Alex grinned manically as the Goblin's memories flickered through his brain just as easily as they did would he have consumed it, and combined with his screaming and fighting victim clutched in his claws, it made Háma and Gamling back away in fear.

The Prototype however did _not_ like what he saw in the Goblin's memories, and his grin turned into an enraged snarl.

"WARGS!" He barked out, spinning on his heel and stomping back to where the trek was. The soldiers spun around, staring at the approaching Prototype. "This fuck is a spy!" Alex snarled, his claws cracking the Goblin's skull. The creature screeched in pain, kicking air in a futile attempt to escape its tormentor, but it couldn't. Black blood oozed out from beneath the talon holding its mutilated visage.

"What is going on?!" Théoden demanded. His face was pale.

"Warg Riders!" Aragorn yelled, realizing the situation at first, "We are under attack!"

The people began to panic, screaming and huddling together.

"Riders of Rohan!" Théoden shouted, "Rally to me!"

"Get in front of the civilians! Protect them" Alex suddenly barked with the authority of a few dozen Blackwatch Leaders that made the men stare at him in confusion. "Form perimeters around them! Don't let anything through to them!" The Blacklight carrier whirled around, dragging the bleeding Orc behind him to stalk towards Èowyn. "Èowyn!" He snapped, getting her and the other's attention. "I have orders for you!"

The woman's eyes widened. She noticed the still-living Goblin in the Prototype's grasp. The creature renewed its efforts to free itself, but Alex growled and more tendrils rose from his flesh, snapping around the creature's limbs and burrowed their way inside, making the Orc wail in pain.

"Get the children into the carts", the Virus ordered, "And tell all of them to gather the vehicles up. Have them stand together in a circle. _Everybody_ able to hold a weapon will get one." His gaze flicked back to his captive that had ceased its struggle and was wheezing, though its flesh was still twitching.

"We need to get them away!" Théoden cut in, "Lead them to Helm's Deep!"

"No!" The Blacklight carrier snapped. "Sending them away with no-one to protect them?! That's their death!" He locked gazes with the King. "They stay here to be able to defend themselves!"

Èowyn swallowed hard, watching her uncles' hard face, but the king quickly gave in. "Everybody who is able to hold a sword, protect those who can't!" He ordered.

"And get the children under covers!" Alex snarled. "Don't let them see this."

In an instant, he snapped back around, stalking back to the point Legolas stood. The Elf glared darkly at the hills in front of them.

"They are coming", he said.

"Let them come", Alex growled. "We have a Red Line to hold that they will not cross."

Behind them, carts and civilians were moved together, children were placed inside the circle and safely hidden away while the soldiers moved to the front.

Boromir approached them.

"This is madness", he breathed, holding his sword.

"This is war", Alex replied.

With wild yowling and barking, a massive pack of Wargs shot over the hill, darting towards them. The Prototype hissed. Mentally, he searched for the strain he used back on the Amon Hen. The tendrils twitched and inserted the virus inside the mangled Orc before the Blacklight carrier pulled his tendrils out of his victim, revealing torn flesh and bleeding wounds beneath. A small amount of twitching tentacles however, remained inside its flesh, wriggling in excitement.

Alex' arms shifted and turned into his Musclemass. He hauled his arm back, balancing on one foot as he aimed at the approaching horde.

His arm shot to the front, releasing the mutilated Goblin and sending it shooting with a startling speed at the first few beasts.

The creature simply _exploded_. A massive amount of tentacles shot from each part of its body in a display similar to Alex' Tendril barrage Devastator and latched onto everything they touched. Given the fact that the Orc was right above the army, the tentacles snapped onto Orcs, on Wargs, on weapons, armour and small boulders.

And then they pulled back, dragging everything they held with them at an astonishing speed as if they were sucked into a black hole. The Orcs didn't have time to process it before they met their untimely end.

They smashed into each other and the sheer force of the retracting tendrils crushed everything to a formless mass. Organs, blood, bones, tissues, weapons and other things splattered _everywhere_.

The Rohirrim and the civilians stared in utter horror and the Wargs dug their claws into the ground, stopping their attack while the Warg Riders watched in terror.

The smell of Warg Blood awoke a primal fear in the mounts, preventing them from obbeying their masters.  
A loud, demented laughter drowned out all whimpers and screams. The Prototype was laughing!

His eyes were blazing crimson, his teeth were too sharp to be human and his skin was rippling in exitement as his body shook with the force of his amusement.

As Dana would have put it, _Creepy as Fuck._

But what the Hell? Alex could make his _own_ explosions now!

Tendrils and shadows began to rush across his body, concentrating around his legs before he simply pushed off the ground with enough force he completely shattered the boulder he and Legolas were on, and catapulted himself through the air. A orange blazing trail followed after him as Alex shifted his Musclemass to the Hammerfists, using their additional weight to shoot towards the group of Wargs and slam into the ground hard enough he utterly flattened the five closest beasts and their riders into a gory red mess.

Two seconds later and he unleashed a Tendril Barrage Devastator, sending tentacles and spikes in every direction that speared through any and all opposition.

Wargs shrieked in pain when they were shredded to pieces, Orcs screeched in terror when they witnessed the ones beside them turn into a pile of cooling flesh. Alex straightened his back with a snarl, setting his eyes on the remaining forces. The Devastators always felt like a punch into the guts, especially when he was already nursing a raging case of the munchies, but at least there was still a lot of these guys alive.

Alex licked his lips, ducked low, and changed to his Whipfist. Without wasting another moment, he lashed out, whipping the claw from one side to the other and slicing another group pf beasts and riders apart with no more resistance than ripping through wet tissue.

The Warg Riders began panicking, urging their mounts to the front. The beasts themselves were unsure what to do, but the man stank of Warg Blood and death, and the beasts made a decision. They shot to the front, all of them targeting the sentient Virus with the intention of tearing him apart.

Alex wouldn't have any of it as he changed to his claws and effortlessly ripped through the approaching hordes with no trouble at all and at a startling speed.

He barely realized that his vision slowly narrowed, focusing only on the closest moving target without taking notice of whatever was nearby. The Wargs began panicking, whimpering and pulling away from the Prototype, but initially, that was what drew his attention. Being a predator at the very top of the food chain, he reacted fast towards fleeing prey, and quickly changed his track to assault them.

Suddenly something entered his peripheral vision, making him lash out out of pure instinct. He almost immediately realized that it was too large for a Warg and halted his claw strike only inches from whatever it was.

It was a horse with Boromir on its back, who looked positively disturbed by the massive blood-stained claw that very nearly took off his head.

They stared at each other for several long seconds until Alex snapped.

"For fuck's sake!" the Prototype hollered, "I could've taken you apart! Do you have a death wish?!"

"I don't", Boromir snapped, "You went right out of control!"

Alex froze at the Gondorian's exclamation. He lost control?

That couldn't be good.

"CHARGE!" Théoden's voice bellowed, drawing the Prototype's attention to the Rohirrim who had broken off from the trek to attack the fleeing Wargs. The pack of Saruman's hounds had been greatly diminished by the Blacklight's initial assault, but were still not finished.

However, in their panicked states, neither the beasts nor their riders were any great trouble and were easily picked off by the warriors of the king. Alex just stood there, watching them round up the remaining forces while he tried to get his urge to continue maiming under control.

Losing himself in his instincts to kill had never happened before, and quite frankly, it scared him. He could have easily murdered his friends by accident.

He was glad he didn't.

Aragorn and Legolas materialized out of nowhere besides him and Boromir, keeping their distance but also not leaving.

The Prototype realized quickly why they did it. Théoden and his men had finished picking off Goblins and were not moving towards him, expressions grim.

Alex knew those faces. They were afraid of him.

He sighed annoyed. _Great fucking job._

"Aragorn!", Théoden commanded, "What kind of creature have you brought with you?"

The Blacklight Carrier bristled at the animosity in the man's voice. Aragorn's jaw moved to reply, but the Virus was faster. "I'm a weapon", he snarled, "And I did what I was made to do: I killed my enemies." His gaze lowered to his claws. They were blood stained and the biolumniscent areas were glowing eerily. No wonder these guys here nearly wetted themselves. Alex snorted and let his tendrils wash over his shape, cleaning his entire body from the gore sticking to him and re-changing his talons into normal human hands.

"I will not lift a single finger against your people", he declared, locking eyes with the king. "As long they don't raise a finger against me. I have no ill intents against you, King Théoden, or your people, but I admit that my very nature will set me against everything that _breathes_."

"Then it is too dangerous", Gamling said. "It is near our people, walking amongst them."

"Alex has been with me for several months now", Aragorn threw in, crossing his arms. "He never intentionally sought to harm me or my companions. He fought for us and even suffered crippling injuries that would have killed any lesser man. I trust him with my life."

Théoden glared darkly, eyes flicking between the Ranger and the Virus. His men were silent, watching them.

Then the King sheathed his sword and motioned for his soldiers to do the same.

"I have no choice but to believe in the choices you made, Aragorn."

The Ranger exhaled in relief.

"You will not regret it", Alex said. "My intention is to help you and your people against Saruman and Sauron. You have my word that I will not harm any of you as long my mind is mine to control."

Théoden nodded grimly, turning to his men. "Háma! Ready the people! We have to leave before more enemies appear. I do not wish to experience another ambush."

The Rohirrim moved back towards the civilians. Boromir's shoulders dropped and Aragorn rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the carnage Alex caused.

The Prototype shrugged. "Huh. That would have gone really wrong."


	17. Before the Battle

**Author: I got my new (well, technically, mom's old) Laptop up and running. Also, the old version was uploaded on 9th March 2016, New version on 26th August 2016. Which means I'm done with the rewrite.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

Before the Battle

It was in the late afternoon when the trek had finally reached Helm's Deep. The remaining way after the attack of Isengard's Wargs was rushed, because the beasts might have attacked another time. A few actually did, but they didn't even get close to the refugees before they got picked off by Legolas' arrows or Alex' Whipfist.

The latter was what made the soldiers and refugees jump in horror every time the deadly biological weapon lashed out and sliced apart a fully-grown Warg complete with rider as if they were made of hot butter.

Alex had promised them to not use it against them, but he did understand their fear. After all, he had more or less rubbed it into their faces that he was an insane weapon of mass destruction with the habit of brutally eviscerating any opponent that he came upon.

He sighed in annoyance. _That really could have gone wrong_. He had said this to Boromir after Aragorn had to swoop in and safe his ass _again_ \- and he had meant it with every syllable. He wasn't sure how much the Gondorian knew, but to him it was plainly evident that he could have lost all control.

In hindsight, he realized that there was a small, very small moment when his higher brain functions nearly stopped their work to allow the Blacklight Virus in itself to run wild. _Blacklight_ made no difference between Men and Orcs, it merely saw all of them as hosts to propagate itself. If that had happened, then Rohan would have gone extinct pretty fast.

Even if, by some strange coincidence, Alex' own mind had anything left to say in this and he wouldn't have attacked the humans, he couldn't help but see the similarities between the attack of the Wargs and Manhattan.

For a short moment, he could _fight_ again like he has fought in Manhattan. There was nothing but him and a massive army of enemies, only his claws between him and them. There was nothing more exhilarating than slaying scores upon scores of weak foes, feel their life bleed away as he splattered them across the floor.

He didn't like to admit it, but he actually missed this.

No wonder the people were scared of him.

So he had wisely kept his distance. He was still close enough so he could react should something happen, but far away enough so the people could feel safe from him.

He stopped upon a boulder, watching the people hurrying past him towards the fortress at the end of the ravine.

Helm's Deep was a mighty construction, and it made a good impression on the Prototype.

The main building itself was nestled deep into the cliff, sitting atop a large plateau so its entrance was several dozen feet above the ground and only to be reached by a narrow ramp. Its walls were thick and ran in a circular form from one cliff to another. Round was good, because there was no blind spot in a round construction.  
The mighty wooden door did worry the Prototype slightly, since it could be broken open with enough force.

With the narrow passageway, however, it would be harder to get in, since enough men on the towers on either side could easily take out several of the Uruk-Hai and leave their bodies there, forcing the others to remove the corpses first.

Alex frowned, thinking that maybe he should stay near the door.

His gaze wandered over to the wall attached to the round construction. It was very tall, three to four stories at least, and slightly bend.

There was no obvious weak point in the construction.

Except...

Alex' eyes narrowed on the drain situated in the middle of the wall. This thing was a massive weak point.

Just like the exhaust port of the _Death Star._ He would need to do something about this better sooner than later.

The Prototype hopped off the boulder and landed on the floor with an audible _thud_ , then continued following after the refugees towards the fortress.

He went through the gate as one of the last ones, and quickly took notice of the building. Behind the first wall was only a narrow way to walk, then a deep pit before another wall jutted out of the ground shortly before the fortress that was dug into the cliff.

"Mama! Mama!" Alex' head snapped up as he heard the children's voice. Instantly, his gaze found Èothain and Freda, who just ran towards a middle-aged woman that stared at the dumbfounded for a moment. With a cry of relief, she suddenly dropped to her knees and the two children more or less flew into her arms, hugging her tightly.

' _At least someone who managed to get back to their family'_ , Alex thought gloomily as he watched the tear-soaked face of the woman. He thought back to Dana and wondered once more how she was doing. But he had promised it to Aragorn to see this through before he could go back to her. And Alex Mercer kept his words.

He was about to turn and go when he suddenly felt a light tug at his pant legs. His Biomass bristled a bit, making the Virus stop and turn towards whoever was trying to stop him.

"Uh...Alex?"

Alex blinked at Èothain, who looked at him uncertainly. "...?"

"I wanted to...say thank you", the kid stated. The Prototype frowned in confusion. He certainly wouldn't have expected the child come running to him when everybody else kept their distance. He noticed a few of the other adults pull their own children away and gawk at the Blacklight Carrier with unbridled fear and disgust.

And Èothain stood there, holding on to the Prototype as if he was perfectly normal. There was a squeak and Freda let go of her mother's hold and ran over too, hugging Alex' legs with all her might.

"You caught Èothain when he fell off Garold!", the little girl commented, "And you took us to that nice lady."

Èothain was grinning now. "And then you killed all those bad monsters! You protected us and all the others!"

Alex blinked, not really understanding why these children were so... _happy_ with him utterly ravaging a whole army of Orcs.

Èothain looked up to him with large eyes. "I know, you are a monster too", he explained in a conspirator's tone, "But you are a good monster. You saved all of us! Even the soldiers who don't like you. You still saved them too." Alex blinked, though he slowly began to understand. The kid continued to ramble meanwhile, "So, can you protect us again? Mama says that there are more bad monsters coming, so will you take care that they don't get to us?"

"Can you make them go away?" Freda questioned.

Alex' lips twitched upwards. He really didn't understand why this kid had this much naive hope in him, but somehow it felt...good, he supposed. Everybody around them was terrified and disgusted of him and his powers, and then there were these two children that put all their hope into him.

"I promise", the Prototype replied, "I will do everything I can to prevent them from coming to get you."

"I know you can do it!" Èothain cheered. He took his sister's hand and was about to return to his mother when Alex stopped them. He knelt down to speak to them at eye-level, voice serious.

"Èothain. It will be dangerous, you hear me?" He shook his head. "I cannot be everywhere and there is the chance that I might not be able to keep my promise. I will try to hold the Orcs off the fortress, but there is a chance- a very small chance- that they will slip past me." Their eyes locked for a moment. "If that happens, it is your job to protect your little sister, you hear me? Freda will be a source of headaches later on, but don't forget that she is the most important person to you." He patted the girl's head as he continued. "Let Háma or the others hand you a dagger or a short sword. If anything gets towards you and the other refugees, do not hesitate to protect them."

"But I am alone", Èothain pointed out.

"You are not. If you show the others what it means to be brave, then they will be brave too. But at the moment, they are too scared." The Virus grinned at the boy. "So if you manage to overcome your fear, you can do anything. And then the others will realize how easy it is to beat those stinking Uruks."

"And will they be scared of me?"

"They will. These bastards are cowards at heart. Show them that they can't screw with you and they will run away."

Èothain thought for a moment before his face lit up. "Then I will do that! Then I will be brave for Freda and mama and the others. And I will be the bravest and strongest man in all of Rohan when I grow up!"

"That's the spirit!", Alex replied. He slid back to his feet, gently shoving the children back towards their mother, who had watched the entire thing with a worried look. "Now go to your mom and tell her that you are going to be a hero."

"We will!" Èothain beamed before he dashed back to his mother.

"Bye", Freda added, running after her brother.

"I'll see you once this is all over!" Alex called out. His grin remained on his face until the three had vanished from his sight. Then he dropped his hand and swung around, heading to where Théodred and his men were.

He had the memories of the Orcs he devoured, and he really didn't like what he had seen. He didn't say a word on the trek to prevent a major panic, but now he couldn't skirt around this any longer.

He had to speak to the King and Aragorn. And tell them of the army heading towards them.

* * *

Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Boromir were following after Théoden. The King moved past his men, glancing at the weapons, armour and supplies they brought with them.

It wasn't a lot, much to his chagrin. Aragorn could see him frown before he turned to Gamling and Háma.

"Draw all forces behind the wall", the King ordered, "Bar the gate and set a watch on the surround."

"My Lord", one of the guards asked, what about those that cannot fight? The women and children?"

"Get them into the caves", Théoden ordered with a firm voice. "Saruman's arm would have grown long indeed if he thinks he can reach us here."

"It already did", a low gravely voice cut in.

Gamling and Háma both jumped and had their swords drawn instantly as Alex marched right towards them. Aragorn frowned at the dark expression on the Plague's face.

The hooded man glanced at the two guards before he turned his attention towards the King. His heels snapped together with an audible _thud_ , he folded his arms behind his back and straightened his spine. Aragorn wondered about this motion, though he assumed it was what those Soldiers that hunted him did.

"I took a quick inventory of the defence line", Alex declared, "I checked up on the weak points and strong points in a hope to devise a battle strategy."

The Ranger's eyebrows shot up in confusion, while Théoden frowned a bit. Gamling and Háma looked at each other puzzled.

"What do you think then?" the King eventually asked.

Alex shrugged and lost his tense body posture. "It is good. Better than Edoras or a plain open field for sure", he began, "But it could be better too."

"How?" Théoden questioned, "This bulwark has served as a safe retreat for generations."

"Well, for starters I would install some semi-automatic machine gun turrets to the walls", the Plague continued with another shrug. "Though I am aware that we don't have those, so we need to find a substitute for that: Archers. Lots and lots of archers would make these walls safer."

"We already planned for this", Háma threw in with a heavy scowl.

"Oh. Did you think of that one massive glaring weak spot your wall has, then?" Alex questioned.

"What are you talking about?" Gamling questioned with an annoyed expression, "These walls have no weak points."

"They don't?" The hooded man cocked his head, glancing at the two men. "I counted at least _two_ : One is the gate. I mean _wood_ against axes? Not such a good idea."

"We will reinforce it once the siege begins", Háma explained with a wave of his hand.

"The second is over there", Alex finished, ignoring the man's input from before. He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "And that one is pretty obvious, if you ask me."

The King and his men hurried over to the battlements, eyeing the wall connected to the fortress in search for the so-called 'weak point'.

Aragorn expected a broken wall, or a weak structure inside the stone, but he didn't see one.

"And what would your so-called weak point be?" Háma questioned again.

"The drain", Alex deadpanned. "Don't you see it? A _hole_ right inside the otherwise impervious wall."

"There are iron bars down there, strong and sturdy. Nothing gets through there", Gamling explained with a huff.

Alex arched an eyebrow. "Really?" He drawled out. "Okay, Quiz time: Do you know _salpeter_?"

Boromir furrowed his brows. "The men of Gondor use it to salt meat. Why?"

"Because you can use it for other purposes too", the Hooded Man continued. "Like...blowing stuff up."

Now Legolas perked up. "Wait. You used this phrase...this _blowing up_ in reference to the unlucky Uruks you maimed at the Amon Hen. When...when they were torn apart from the inside out."

"Exactly." Alex' expression turned gleeful for a moment as he remembered this moment. He quickly turned serious again. "What I'm talking about is a very fast combustion. Wood burns, under ideal circumstances, maybe half an hour. But what would happen if that wood would burn to ashes within less than the blink of an eye? All this energy has to go somewhere." He pointed down to the drain. "And if you use enough salpeter, mix it with Sulphur and ash, you get a material that will burn fast and with enough strength to tear through solid bed rock. It could reduce even _me_ to a smouldering wreck, so your little stone masonry down there will stand no chance."

"This is fantastic", Théoden scoffed, turning around, "Where should Saruman have such a weapon from?" He paused, eyes narrowing on the Plague. "Unless you told him."

Aragorn watch Alex snort amused. "Back to that again? I never have been in Orthanc and I don't know what Saruman is planning, but I can make assumptions based on what I know." His lips peeled away in a grin. "Do you know someone called Ghorbash?"

The men were taken back by the sudden change of the subject, so they needed a moment to follow. "It does not sound like an Elven name, or a man's name...or even a Dwarven Name", Legolas pointed out.

"Pah!" Gimli snorted, "A Orcish Name then. Why should we know any Orcs other than introducing them to our blades?"

"It doesn't matter if you knew him or not", Alex admitted with a shrug. "But he was one of those idiots that attacked us not too long before."

"One of the Warg riders?!" Théoden snapped, "Then how do you know of him then?"

"You are a spy then", Gamling growled, drawing his sword to point it threateningly at the other's head. Alex merely glanced at him in annoyance.

"Ask Aragorn", he pointed out, "He will gladly tell you about my _special_ abilities." He smirked again. "Ghorbash wasn't just any Warg Rider. He was also one of those unfortunate enough to end up becoming my _snack_."

Aragorn groaned. "Of course", he muttered, "You have taken his memories."

"And about everything else that made him Ghorbash", Alex agreed. "The point is, I know him better than his brethren knew. And I know what they have done under Saruman's orders: They were told to collect sulphur and scrape salpeter off the rocks of Isengard." His eyes glowed and Aragorn felt his blood drain from his face. "And thus my assumption: Saruman has made a _bomb._ And he will use it to destroy you and everybody you hold dear."

Gamling narrowed his eyes on the hooded man. "Even if the wall falls, Saruman would still need an _army_ to take over Helm's Deep."

"Oh?" Alex arched his eyebrows. "Didn't you know, Gamling? Saruman already _has_ an army."

Aragorn's eyes tightened. "Those Uruk-Hai we faced at the Amon Hen and which you obliterated at the Fangorn Forest...Saruman has bred them, didn't he?"

"How many", Boromir questioned. "How many did he create?"

"Thousands", the Plague replied. "Lurtz himself was the first one, and we slew him at the Amon Hen. But he wasn't the only one. He was far from being the only one. Saruman has bred an entire army. Far larger than anything Rohan could throw at him. _Ten Thousand_ Uruk-Hai. All taller and stronger than a normal Orc, more resistant, more dangerous, less prone to exhaustion, more intelligent and with no fear of the sun light." The Ranger felt his head spin at the grim explanation, but Alex wouldn't let him or the King get any moment to think about it. "Plus", he continued, "He has taken at least a thousand of the Duneldings under his command with promises of destroying Rohan. He also has about five thousand normal Orcs which are ready and willing to kill all of you." Alex shrugged. "Do the math yourselves."

"Sixteen Thousand..." Théoden gasped, taking a shocked step back, "So many..."

"Exactly", Alex agreed. "Sixteen _thousand_ against three _hundred_. The odds aren't really in our favour. But-" His teeth flashed in a wide grin. "We have the advantage of the position. Helm's Deep is a good place. It can be easily defended with enough archers. The only problem is the drain and the bombs." He nodded towards the cliffs. "I will try to hold them off long enough at the entrance to the Ravine. It's a literal bottle neck there and I alone can probably take out a good large chunk of their army, but..."

"They can easily pull back and disperse, forcing the people of Rohan to stay inside the Ravine", Aragorn finished darkly. "And we don't have enough supplies to survive a longer siege."

"Correct."

The Ranger saw Boromir frown. "What about... driving them _against_ the walls instead of _away_?" The Gondorian asked. "Like iron on an anvil?"

Alex frowned. "You mean I attack them from behind, cut them off from retreat and supplies, while you guys pick them off from the front?"

Boromir nodded wordlessly.

"That is highly dishonourable and cowardly", Gimli pointed out. "I think I like the idea."

"We don't have much time", Aragorn pointed out. "The army will arrive tomorrow by nightfall."

* * *

Théoden stood beside Aragorn, watching his men hurry along. They had just a little over a day to prepare for Saruman's Host. The Ranger knew it wasn't very much time, but they had to make the best from it.

Despite the rapidly darkening sky, Alex went to work right away. He had said the drain was a weak point, so he was going to do something about it, but what?

So the King and the others now stood at the wall of Helm's Deep, glancing at the field in front of them. So here was where it was going to be decided? Aragorn shuddered at the calmness of the situation. It shouldn't be so silent.

Alex stalked along the battlements, glancing down onto the field until he gave up with a huff.

"Gimli", he called out, drawing the dwarf's attention. "You with me."

"What for?", the Dwarf asked gruffly as he followed the Plague along the wall.

"You know rocks, yes?", Alex pointed out "I need a good rock. Nice and hard. You show me one and I will use it to block the drain."

Gimli furrowed his brows. "Such boulders weigh tons, lad", he claimed, "It is impossible to move them without help."

The hooded man chuckled. "Gimli, I am the strongest and most dangerous thing in the world. I tore tanks apart or threw them into the fifth story of a sky scraper. I kicked helicopters out of the air and ripped large Air Conditioning units from roofs. A little pebble won't stop me."

Aragorn watched with some amusement as the hooded man simply grabbed Gimli and held him in front of his body, ignoring the Dwarf's angry yells to put him down. Without caring about his struggling companion or the King's men, Alex then proceeded with stepping off the battlements and dropping towards the ground.

He hit the floor with enough force the impact was noticeable even up the walls and the crack the hardened soil made could be heard all the way to the other side.

Théoden grumbled under his breath as they watched the pair slowly stroll along the ravine, checking every boulder they came upon.

"Do you believe what this creature claimed, my Lord?" Gamling asked. "That the white Wizard created such an army? Ten Thousands at least?"

"I do", Aragorn declared with a firm voice. "I trust his words."

"But this thing-" Gamling flinched when they witnessed the hooded man snarl at a particularly large boulder, before he pulled his arm back, fashioned it into a giant blade and proceeded with mercilessly assaulting the rock as if it had wronged him somehow.

"This _creature_ ", the guard continued, "It has no reason to fight alongside us. It has no loyalty, no king it serves."

"He serves himself", Aragorn explained, "Alex just wishes to get back home. However, to reach this goal, he has no choice but to help us."

"As far I have seen", Legolas added, "His heart is in the right place, even if he appears a bit mad at times."

"Mad is one way to put it", Háma muttered darkly. "He was _laughing_ when he maimed the Wargs, when he tore them into bloody pieces."

"And that is exactly why we trust him", Boromir pointed out. He could easily do what he did to those Orcs to the people of Rohan, and yet he didn't."

The man in question paused his attack on the boulder and turned his head into their direction with an annoyed expression.

"I can hear you just fine, you know?" He yelled loud enough so they heard him, while Gimli staggered back with a start. "I don't fucking care if you trust me or not, but as I see it, I am your best bet to keep off Saruman's army he _bred to destroy all of you!_ "

His blade melted away, changing into his heavily-muscled arms, so he could easily take the rock and haul it over to the drain. Théoden stood there, his expression turning thoughtful as he turned the information over in his head. A moment later the King straightened his back and his expression turned grim. "Let them come", he growled. "Háma, Gamling! With dawn tomorrow you will rally every man and lad strong enough to bear arms, so they are ready by nightfall!"

"Yes, my Lord", the two guards acknowledged.

Aragorn exhaled coldly and turned his gaze into the darkening sky. No stars were visible, and the moon was hidden behind thick clouds. The night of the battle was going to be a dark one.

They were cornered rats with no way out. He just hoped these rats could bite strong enough to fend their foes off.

* * *

Early the next morning, Théoden, Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli and Alex were moving through the Hornburg to reach the Gates. They passed several refugees on the way, all who looked rather dishevelled after an uneasy sleep. The hooded man had kept watch at the highest cliff at the opening of the ravine the whole time, though nothing happened throughout the night.

Théoden led the way outside, where they stood at the ramp leading towards the gate. "We will cover the causeway and the gate from above", the King explained, "No army has ever breached the deepening wall or set foot inside the Hornburg."

"This is no rabble of mindless Orcs", Gimli cut in, drawing the King's attention. "Their armour is thick and their shields broad."

The King approached him, eyes dark. "I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf", he pointed out darkly, "I know how to defend my own keep." He pushed past Gimli and back into the inner rings of the fortress. Aragorn noticed Alex watch the men of Rohan finish last repairs to the Keep. They were nervous and hopeless, and every time they noticed the Plague glance at them, they quickly hurried to finish their work and remove themselves from his presence.

The King continued meanwhile. "They will break upon this fortress like water on rock", he declared, "Saruman's forces will pillage and burn, we've seen it before. Crops can be resown, houses rebuild. Within these walls, we will outlast them."

Alex snorted and Aragorn stopped, arms spread out and voice picked up. "They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops and villages! They come to destroy your people, down to the last child!"

Théoden spun back around, dark eyes set on the Ranger. He grabbed his shoulder and pulled him close, voice lowered so nobody could listen in. "What would you have me do?" He asked, "Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread."

Aragorn swallowed, knowing that the King was right. He's seen it in their eyes. They were desperate, weak. Hopeless.

"If this is our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance!"

"Who will remember you?" Alex questioned, having obviously heard everything. "If everybody is dead, who will remember their sacrifices?" His head was inclined to the side as he silently dared Théoden to answer.

The King didn't reply.

"Exactly", Alex continued. "Nobody will remember if there is nobody to remember. Rohan will die if the people are gone."

"Send out riders, my Lord", Aragorn urged him, "You must call for aid."

"And who will come?" The King questioned. "Elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. " He threw a side glance at the Ranger's companions. "The old alliances are dead", he added with a bitter tone.

Boromir took a step towards them. "Gondor will answer."

"Gondor!" Théoden bit out with a low growl. "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell?" His voice got a bit louder and angrier. "Where was Gondor when our enemy closed in all around us?" Aragorn held his gaze when the King bared his teeth in an angry snarl. "Where was Gon-" He cut himself off, his eyes turning distant for a short moment. Aragorn saw some emotion flicker over his face for a second before he caught himself again. "No, my lord Aragorn", he continued with a slightly shaking voice. "We are alone."

He turned and stalked away, leaving the companions standing there. "Get the women and children into the caves!", the King barked at Gamling.

"We need more time to lay provisions, my liege", the man tried to argue as he followed the hurried steps of his Lord.

"There is no time", Aragorn heard Théoden say, "War is upon us!"

"War is upon us indeed", Alex commented darkly. He glared at the Hornburg's entrance, while Legolas watched the swarm of Saruman's spies circle far away above the plains.

The Plague in the shape of a man snorted and turned away. "Geez. And here I thought _Blackwatch_ was suicidal with their policy. Being here already increased our chances of survival, Théoden just doesn't see it."

"Now what?" Gimli asked.

"Now we will see whether we can help somewhere", Boromir decided.

"You guys go and prep yourselves", Alex told them. "I'll go and check up on the refugees."

* * *

"We'll place the reserves along the walls!", a Rohirrim shouted to another, "They can support the archers from above the gate!"

His buddy's response was cut short when Alex moved past them, causing both of them to jerk back as if they have been burnt. The Prototype scowled at them, though he remained moving. He watched the soldiers guide the civilians into the Hornburg, when he recognized a familiar blonde head.

Èowyn stood there with a frown, ignoring all attempts of the men to usher her too into the safety of the caverns. So the Blacklight Carrier walked over to her.

"You should go inside too", he rasped into her ear. The young woman whirled around startled, eyes widening when she recognized him. From the fear evident in her expression, she clearly was terrified of him. Ever since his little stunt with the Wargs, all the others steered clear of him, with only his companions daring to stay nearby.

Èowyn was no exception to that rule.

"Shouldn't you go into the caves too?" Alex asked.

The Shieldmaiden narrowed her eyes. "Do you believe I should do so? Cower with the other women and not fight alongside the men?"

"I believe you shouldn't throw your life away so eagerly", the Virus replied. "I have seen many men and women who threw themselves just too readily at me in a pathetic attempt to slow me down. In the end they weren't much more than just another obstacle." He noticed the young woman shy back from him. She had clearly seen what he was able to do and could easily imagine what he normally did to opposition. Alex sighed through his nose. "What I want to say it that I hate people who throw their life away. Especially if they are such nice people like you."

Èowyn blinked. "You...really?"

"Really." He turned her around and pushed her towards the cave entrance. "And don't you think that they are excluding you from the battle. You simply do not fight at the front lines, that's all." He shrugged. "Just see it as another type of battle."

Èowyn scoffed. "To mind the children, to find food and bedding for when the men return. What renown is there in that?"

Alex arched his eyebrow. "So this is about honour? What is it with you people and trying to get 'honour'?" He growled. "If you're looking for means to _kill yourself_ , there are easier ways."

"You wouldn't understand what it means to me", the woman replied, crossing her arms as she moved along with the Virus. "You don't know what it is."

"No, because I try to fight for survival", Alex replied, "And if it means to hide like a coward then I will hide like a fucking coward. You'll get no other chance if you get yourself killed, Èowyn." He cracked his neck. "Think of your big brother first before you do something reckless."

"My brother?"

The Prototype sighed and stopped. "Èowyn. I have a younger sister myself. And I worry all the time about her, so I am pretty sure your brother will throw a tantrum fitting Sauron himself if our irresponsibility gets you killed."

Èowyn didn't reply, so the two of them continued their way past several gates and guards until they set foot into the massive caves beneath the Hornburg. Glittering stones coated the walls and the giant stalagnates that have grown from the ceiling and floor. Alex glanced at them with amazement. He had never seen something like it before, not even in all of his memories. It was certainly something different and, quite frankly, utterly beautiful.

It also helped that the Blacklight Virus itself enjoyed the high humidity and stable climate of the cave.

The impression wasn't lessened by the hundreds of refugees sitting huddled together with blank expressions on their faces. Babies were crying, women were whispering with each other, children where whimpering and men muttered under their breaths. Injured people were being taken care of.

It did remind Alex a bit of Manhattan, of the refugee camps he's seen that were actually used. Unlike the people of New York, the people of Rohan actually went into hiding when a monstrous plague was running amok in their homes.

Èowyn made a frustrated huff near Alex, drawing his attention to the soldiers who just filtered into the caverns.

"By orders of the King", one of them ordered, "Every man and lad able to bear arms is to be enlisted in the defence of the Hornburg!"

"Are they serious?" Alex groaned. Of course, he was aware that this was going to happen sooner or later- they simply didn't have enough soldiers anyways- though he still didn't enjoy seeing the soldiers haul the old men to their feet and usher them out of the Glittering Caves. He saw women hugging their husbands, children clinging to their fathers and mothers holding their sons back.

When he saw one of the guards speaking to a young boy, the Prototype began moving with a low growl. His heavy hand dropped on the soldier's shoulder, startling the man and making him jerk around. Alex' eyes narrowed on the man when he recognized him as one of the Rohirrim who had charged past him into the carnage he had caused amongst the Wargs.

He set his face into a disapproving frown, earning a startled gasp from the man. "Hey", Alex growled, "No kids under sixteen."

The man blinked in confusion, understanding slowly settling on his expression.

"The King ordered us to gather all-"

"I heard it the first time", Alex cut him off impatiently. "But I said _no children under sixteen_."

"By order of the King-" The man tried again, only to find his face full of angry man-eating Viral Weapon of mass destruction.

"I mean it", Alex snarled, making the man back off. By now, all of the other Rohirrim had stopped what they were doing and glanced uncertainly at the Prototype. They weren't too sure what was going to happen now, since they have witnessed him tearing the ever-loving shit out of the Wargs. Alex turned around, glancing at the men. "I will only say this once", he growled loud enough for the others to hear. "I don't care what Théoden said. I don't care what your orders are. _You will not_ take anybody younger than sixteen years." He paused for a moment, watching their faces before he picked up his voice. " _Am I understood_?"

None of the men dared to challenge him, so they pulled away from the young boys and focussed on the older men instead. Alex kept watching them, saw how they threw him terrified glances as they lead their charges out.

Èowyn had witnessed the exchange and slowly approached him. "Why...why have you just done this? With less soldiers, it will be harder to defend the Hornburg."

"Soldiers, yes", Alex replied, "But these people here aren't soldiers. They're _cannon fodder_ , Èowyn. We should be lucky if they don't wet themselves as soon they see the first Orcs, much less actually _live_ through the night." He shook his head grimly. "No, Èowyn. These men are not warriors. They are a nuisance at best. _Noobs_ , as my sister would put it. They have no experience, no training. I don't want to know I have the blood of innocent _children_ on my hands if I could have prevented it."

The Shieldmaiden's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I...didn't have the impression that you'd be this considerate."

Alex snorted. "Why? Just because I'm not human?"

"Because you didn't spare those Wargs any mercy", Èowyn pointed out, "Because you slaughtered them without so much as the blink of an eye- and you enjoyed it."

The Prototype shrugged. "Well, they had it coming. I promised Aragorn I'd protect the people of Rohan, and to accomplish this I can not show any mercy towards those that try to harm them." He inclined his head, watching a mother hug her son tightly- one of those he just saved from being drawn into war. "If the young are dead, who will be the future of your country?"

Èowyn understood. She nodded her head slowly. "So you do follow your own code of honour then."

"It's better I do", Alex admitted. "If I would just do what my instincts tell me, I would be no better than those Orcs or Redlight. So I made up a few rules to follow: No killing innocent civilians if I can prevent it. No rape. And _no_ children." He threw her a side-glance. "And I also won't turn a blind eye towards idiots who throw their lives away in a suicidal war if it wasn't their choice in the first place. So I am going to do my best to prevent Saruman's army from getting into the Hornburg, though I cannot promise that nobody is going to die. A lot of people are going to get killed, Èowyn. And, given the case I can not stop them, it is your duty to prevent these Uruks from getting anywhere near the children." He glanced at her. "Can you do that?"

The young woman nodded. "I will", she promised.

"Good", The Virus commented. He turned and walked back towards the entrance. "Take care, Èowyn."

As he moved back outside, he couldn't help but notice how calm it was. People spoke in hushed voices to each other, armours and weapons were handed out, the gates re-inforced and last repairs done to the walls, but other than that it was much too silent.

 _So this is the calm before the storm._

Alex narrowed his eyes. He wouldn't leave any of the Orcs alive. He was going to slaughter all of them. Nearly sixteen thousand enemies in one night.

Monster of Manhattan indeed.

* * *

The inside of the Hornburg was bustling with activity. After all, the Uruk would soon arrive, and everybody felt the naked panic crawling into the hearts of the men.

Aragorn furrowed his brow as he watched the many terrified faces as the Rohirrim handed them weapons and armour. He took a sword and glanced at it. It was good steel, but nothing fancy. And all those people...

"Farmers. Farriers. Stable boys", the Ranger muttered, chucking the sword back into the pile it came from, "These are not soldiers."

"Most have seen too many winters", Gimli commented.

"Or too few", Legolas continued his friend's thoughts. Aragorn nodded grimly, turning his attention back to the men. He saw some men three times Boromir's age, and he saw lads too young to join the army.

It was surprising there were no boys younger than sixteen, though.

Legolas frowned as he glanced around. "Look at them", he pointed out. "They're frightened." His voice lowered. "I can see it in their eyes." The Elf turned away with an expression that was very much his way of scoffing. The armoury had fallen silent, and the men watched him uncertainly. Legolas took a few steps, eyed the men and turned back to Aragorn.

" _And they should be"_ , he said in Sindarin. _"Three hundred...against ten thousand?"_ He snorted half amused, half sarcastic.

Aragorn exhaled and caught the sight of the men's faces. They were scared, especially since they couldn't understand what the Elf was saying. But from their expressions, Aragorn could guess that they had a pretty good idea.

He hurried to calm the situation. _"They have more hope of defending themselves here than in Edoras..."_

" _Aragorn"_ , Legolas cut in. _"They cannot win this fight. They are all going to die!"_

"Then I shall die as one of them!" the Ranger barked. In the name of the Gods...he really liked that Elf as if he was his brother, but sometimes the man's blunt nature was a bit too much even for him, so he wasn't thinking when he gave his answer.  
Now all of the others were staring with wide eyes as the realization set in. These people were going to die.

He needed air.

Aragorn turned and walked right out of the armoury to get his thoughts back in order. He heard Gimli hold back Legolas and brushed past Boromir, who just entered the building. He didn't spare his fellow Man a glance, but he could almost feel his confusion.

So many people...and he had doomed them all.

* * *

Isildur's heir sat on the stairs leading into the Hornburg, gloomily smoking his pipe as he stared at nothing in particular. All around him the people were still bustling with activity to finish last repairs and supply runs.

Gandalf had said that the people here would follow him, but he wasn't even so sure whether he _wanted_ to lead them. Somebody would have to do it. Boromir would be a good choice, but the Gondorian was too rash at some moments. Gimli doesn't like thinking about all possibilities. Legolas doesn't like leading and would rather take the orders himself, then try to make the best from it. Alex scared the people, and they would rather run away than follow him.

That left them with him. Aragorn sighed through his nose, exhaling a gust of smoke with it too.

The Ranger's head moved to the side, so he noticed the boy standing near a fire, looking around uncertainly. He wasn't much older than sixteen (he only guessed it because he saw nobody younger than that around), wore armour that was slightly too large for him, and held a sword in his hands, glancing at it uncertainly.

The Ranger picked up his voice slightly. "Give me your sword", he told him.

The boy blinked, his focus turning on the older man before he took a few careful steps towards him, handing him the blade. "What is your name?" Aragorn wanted to know as he took the weapon, turning it over in his hand.

"Háleth", the boy replied, "Son of Háma, my Lord." Aragorn's gaze went over to where the guard of Théoden stood and helped with moving some barriers to help fend the attackers off.

"You were the one that brought the demon here, weren't you?" Háleth asked.

Aragorn frowned for a second, before he realized who the boy meant. "I did", he explained, "He promised to help."

"He said we weren't soldiers. He said we were a nuisance at best. And I think he's right." The boy dropped his shoulders and hung his head. "The other men are saying that we will not live out the night. They say it is hopeless."

Aragorn watched him, before he slid to his feet. He didn't reply immediately, but rather peered along the sword's edge, then whirled the weapon once around, giving it a few test swings. "This is a good sword, Háleth, son of Háma."

He handed it back to the boy, then leaned down to grab his shoulder. Their eyes locked for a moment. "There is always hope."

* * *

Aragorn had returned to the armoury, finding that it was pleasantly empty. Most of the people drafted in had left by now and had moved into position atop the walls.

He found Boromir, who was just finishing with putting on iron gloves and securing his sword on his belt, and Alex, who stared intently on a polished chest plate before he conjured his dark shell, letting himself be encased in his demonic-looking armour without so much as a thought.

He then slowly moved one arm in a circular motion, stopped, had shadows run over his shoulder before rolling his arm again.

"What are you doing?", the Ranger asked curiously as he stepped up to remove his coat from his undershirt.

"Just testing something out", Alex replied with his heavily warped voice while still staring at the metal in front of him.

"And what would that be?" Aragorn questioned, pulling a chain-mail over his head.

The hooded-now-armoured man stopped and turned his head towards the Ranger, his featureless face plate tilted in his direction.

Isildur's Heir wondered again how he could see, speak or breathe in this shell, but then again, he wasn't human, so maybe he didn't need to actually have eyes to perceive the area around him. Aragorn couldn't help but feel intimidated by his companion, even as his gaze moved along the dark shell more clearly for the first time.

Sure enough, his head was greatly human-like, though it was completely hidden beneath dark plates. There were several dents located around the lower side of his face, though Aragrorn suspected that those were not his eyes. Alex' neck was protected with a large plate that appeared to imitate a very spikey collar, and more spikes jutted out from his upper arms and elbows. His torso was similar to a stature, with something like the abdominal muscles being downright engraved into the black organic material. In several depressions along his body he had fiery glowing areas, that illuminated his remaining body.

Alex didn't look like a real living being, more like a nightmare that came to life through dark magic. Like a suit of armour that has been awoken and coated with the shell of an insect, and given thought.

His shoulder plates rose slightly in a mockery of a shrug as he contemplated Aragorn's question.

"My Armour's good for protecting me against all sort of threats, but it doesn't ccompletely negate damage, just reduces it. It also takes away most of my agility, so I can't glide or jump far."

He shrugged again and turned back to the shining chest plate he used for a mirror. "I'm trying to figure out how to increase its protective abilities while also retaining my agility to a certain degree."

"So you too are arming yourself", Aragorn mused as he pulled his vest back over his chainmail and fastened his belts and daggers around his hips.

"Just improving what I have", Alex replied. "It can't hurt to be prepared."

The Ranger threw his coat back over his shoulders and closed it over his mail, only to stop in surprise as he found his sword held towards him.

He turned in surprise to see Legolas handing him the blade, his expression blank.

The Ranger slowly took the blade, watching his friend. "We have trusted you this far and you have not led us astray", the Elf commented. He pulled his brows together. "Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."

Aragorn smiled and shook his head, then placed a comforting hand on the Elf's shoulder. " _There is nothing to forgive, Legolas."_

"All of us are strained", Boromir threw in, having clearly understood the context of Aragorn's words, even though he did not speak the tongue himself. "An impossible battle awaits us, and our mood is strained. I think all of us would have despaired in the face of this."

In that moment, Gimli entered the armoury, struggling with his chain mail. "If we had time, I'd get this adjusted", the Dwarf complained. He let go of the material he was holding, causing the entire folded-up mail to unravel and hit the ground with a resounding clang.

Aragorn arched an eyebrow. The mail was simply too long for the Dwarf. Gimli glanced at the metal on the floor, then turned his eyes on the others. "It's a little tight around the chest", he pointed out.

Boromir and Alex both snorted in amusement, while Legolas and Aragorn just grinned.

Their heads snapped around when outside a horn suddenly blared through the dusk.

"That is no Orc horn!" Legolas noticed with a frown. He was the first to dash outside, clearly curious about what was going on.

His companions followed him closely, running up the stairs and out of the armoury. If it weren't Orcs, then who could be it?

As they rushed outside, they noticed the men stare in awe over the wall.  
Aragorn heard the men whisper amongst each other before one of them gave clear loud orders. "Send for the King!" and "Open the Gates!"

The massive obstacles swung open, allowing a host of five hundred _Elves_ to march right inside the Hornburg. All of them moved in perfect unity, their boots stomped the ground, yet it wasn't threatening.

The men stared in awe as the army walked right inside the fortress with their robes trailing after them.

Théoden, already fully armoured, came down the stairs, eyes blown wide in confusion. As the Elves continued moving inside the keep, their leader stepped to the front, bowing to the King.

Aragorn's heart made a leap inside his chest. The one who lead the host was Haldir of Lothlórien!

"How is this possible?" Théoden asked puzzled as he glanced at the armoured and grim-looking Elves.

"I bring words of Lord Elrond of Rivendell", Haldir explained with small smile. Behind him, his army had stopped moving and stood now perfectly still, awaiting their leader's orders. "An alliance once existed between Elves and Men", Haldir continued. "Long ago we fought and died together."

By now, Aragorn and his companions have reached the stairs and were hurrying down towards the newcomers. Haldir eyed them, his lips twitching up into a slightly larger smile. "We come to honour that alliance", he finished.

Aragorn's heart was beating maddly against his ribcage, though he moderated himself and bowed before the Elf. _"Welcome, Haldir"_

Haldir was about to return the gesture, when the Ranger acted. He suddenly grabbed the Elf and pulled him into a tight hug, grinning widely. Haldir stiffened at first, but quickly returned that gesture with an expression that was half confused and half delighted. "You are _most_ welcome!", Aragorn pointed out with a serious tone.

As Legolas moved to grab his kinsmen's arm to squeeze it in greeting, Haldir's men suddenly snapped around. All of them turned in one motion, thudding the ends of their bows against the ground.

Haldir turned to the still confused Théoden. "We are proud to fight alongside Men, once more."

Théoden nodded wordlessly, the expression of endless gratefulness etched clearly on his face.

Aragorn felt that Haldir's arrival was a good sign, and the heavy weight he felt that suffocated him had become a bit lighter.

That was until one of the soldiers of Rohan gave a startled yell of 'Demon'.

In an instant, the Elves and Haldir had turned their attention towards the towering black-shelled nightmare amongst Théoden's men.

A few of the men drafted into service jerked back, though the 'demon' only made an annoyed groan.

Aragorn could almost feel the other rolling his eyes at the men's fear.

"I am on your side", the nightmare growled. "You can stop wetting yourselves now." His form blurred and twisted, his armour was drawn back into his body to re-shape the appearance of the blue-eyed hooded man. He glanced at the men. "What? Can't someone put on some _armour_ without somebody else getting a heart attack?"

Haldir's expression darkened distinctly as he recognized the one who threatened him with his claws before.

"So you still wander amongst the men, Beast", he snorted, "Still assuming the shape of your prey."

"I did grow attached to this shape", Alex shrugged. His lips peeled away from his teeth in a wide grin. "But is really good that you lot are here", he stated, and for the first time, Aragorn had the distinct feeling that the Plague actually meant what he said.

Haldir seemed to be taken back, though he kept his cover up.

"And why?" He asked, "I never had the impression we were...very good acquaintances."

Alex was beaming wider. "It is because now we have _double_ the amount of warriors, and some who actually _know_ what they are doing."

"What for?" Haldir questioned.

"He wanted to drive the Uruks against the walls of the fortress", Aragorn explained, "Cut them off from retreat and supplies while the defenders inside the keep pick them off from afar."

Haldir blinked in understanding, though his expression didn't lighten up. "You seek to assault them from behind, tear into their backs and send them panicking." He frowned. "An highly dishonourable strategy...but effective."

"I was worried for the people here, because they lack in good archers", Alex admitted, "But with you lot here- the chances just got better." He pointed at the walls overlooking the ravine. "If you would be so kind to shoot the crap out of these bastard Uruks, then I will do my job to fuck them up."

"We came to assist the people of Rohan, and to honour the old alliances", Haldir replied venomously, "Not to help you, Beast."

"You don't have to", the Plague replied, "You do what you came to do and I do what I came to do." Suddenly, he stepped towards Haldir, fully ignoring the Elf flinch back as he pulled him into a one-armed hug. "Make sure you guys take them out before they can hurt anybody inside the Keep."

Haldir looked positively rattled, most likely because a man-eating entity was being too close to him, but he still nodded his understanding. "We will make sure no harm befalls those men", he agreed.

"We don't have much time", Aragorn pointed out. "Alex. Please get ready. Haldir, your men have to take their places along the walls."

"On it", the Plague acknowledged as he let go of the Elf. He stepped back and conjured his armour once more.

"Be careful", Boromir told him.

"You be careful yourselves", the nightmare replied. "I cannot die, you can. So if anything looks like the shit is going to hit the fan big time, don't waste any time and get to _safety_ , okay?"

"Don't worry. I plan on returning to my own people", the Gondorian grinned. Alex gave a nod and turned to face the cliff away from the gate. "See you all by tomorrow", he stated with a serious tone.

Then he pushed off the ground, leaping across the wall separating the Keep from the Wall, and rushing past the startled men to reach the smooth cliff side. Without even slowing down, he continued his dash _up_ the wall and out of their sights.

Haldir exhaled coldly and turned to his men. _"Get into position"_ , he ordered, _"Prepare yourselves for battle!"_

His soldiers moved to take their places, all of them moving in perfect unison.

"So now there is no way back now" Aragorn stated grimly.

"None", Théoden agreed. "Only victory or death remains."


	18. The battle at the Hornburg

**Author: I re-read and re-wrote this chapter just yesterday, adding another 2500 words to it just so it becomes more fluid and better to read. And since I like what I did, I am going to do that with every chapter of this story. Yes, I will even re-upload the previous chapters. But not today and not in the next few days. That's too much work. But I will do that. So be warned.**

 **11th March 2016**

* * *

The battle at the Hornburg

Aragorn marched across the great wall, watching the ravine mouth. The Elves were silent and focused, while the Men were agitated and nervous as the army of Isengard drew closer. The Ranger felt his muscles tensing beneath his skin. He wondered, not for the first time, whether they were actually able to win. Fifteen Thousand Orcs- against a mere thousand on their side. The odds weren't in their favour, even if they had Alex Mercer on their side.

"Argh!" Gimli grated, snapping Aragorn out of his thoughts, "You could have picked a better spot!" The Ranger and Legolas both looked to Legolas' left where Gimli stood right behind the battlements' crenel and couldn't see anything.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn", Legolas declared, deftly ignoring his best friend's misery. Or maybe he just enjoyed torturing the Dwarf. Aragorn couldn't really tell.

"Let's hope they last the night", Gimli grumbled. The Ranger only nodded darkly. His eyes narrowed on the many torches that appeared in front of them.  
The army of Isengard had arrived. And it was massive.

The Uruks grunted and roared, stomping their spears on the ground or smashing their weapons into their shields. The Men and Elves on the walls slowly cocked their bows, but held them aimed to the ground. They waited for the signal.

Above them, thunder crashed and the sky opened up. A cold rain storm set in, drenching everyone. Aragorn resisted the urge to wipe the water out of his face. He too was waiting. The Uruks weren't moving either, but their eyes glowed with bloodlust.  
The Ranger snapped his head up as he noticed a small dark spot that fell from the cliffs and hit the last line of the Uruks with incredible force. If he focused hard enough, he could almost feel the tremor it caused.

And suddenly, the pained and terrified howl of dozens of Uruks drowned out the roaring in the front rows. Many of those in the army turned uncertainly, trying to figure out what was happening in the back. This distraction was all they needed.

" _FIRE!"_ Aragorn shouted. The Elves shot all at once and hundreds of arrows rained down upon the Uruks, decimating the first two lines completely. The Men needed a bit longer to realize that the battle had begun with just one attack, but they followed the Ranger's order and targeted the enemy. Arrows sunk deep into flesh or bounced of armours.

The Uruks howled in rage and opened fire on their own. They had the disadvantage of being on the ground, but they had compound bows that allowed for a stronger shot. One Elf went down, killed by a lucky shot, some more staggered back with arrows sticking out of their shoulders or arms. The Elves, however, only scowled deep and continued their assault. They had to stop the Uruks at the walls. They couldn't allow them to get to the Hornburg.

Legolas frowned and aimed, killing one Uruk with one precise shot. Gimli was yelling enraged. He wanted to kill Orcs too, but Dwarves are no good with a bow. Also, he couldn't see a damn thing from behind the wall.

Aragorn could hear the blood hammering in his ears as he barked orders or dodged projectiles that came too close. His eyes flicked over to the entrance of the ravine from time to time, catching glimpses of Uruks fleeing from black tentacles. However, it was much too far away to see anything really. Aragorn ducked just in time to avoid an arrow aimed at his head. He heard howling from the army of Isengard. He risked a glance, only to pale when he recognized the shapes of long ladders that were dragged to the front.

" _THE LADDERS!"_ Aragorn shouted, _"DESTROY THEM!"_

Elves continued firing arrows, but the Uruks were faster. Driven by their orders and desires to kill every last living being, they put up the ladders faster than the defenders could dismantle them. Uruks crawled on top of the walls and descended upon the Elves, who retaliated with their longs sword and daggers. Gimli bellowed and killed two Uruk with one swipe, sending their carcasses down where they smashed at least three other attackers. He was clearly overjoyed to be finally in the midst of combat. Legolas, however, wasn't overly thrilled. He aimed at the ropes holding one of the ladders and shot once, cutting through to send the ladder and all the Uruks on top of it crashing back to the ground.

Aragorn whirled around, glaring at the gatehouse, where a large group of Uruks began pushing towards it.

"Legolas!" He shouted, "Can you take care of them here? I have to see how Boromir is faring!"

"We can deal with them here!" Gimli replied, swinging his axe to cut down an Uruk. "Go! Hurry!"

Aragorn nodded and began dashing along the walls. He was certain that Legolas and Gimli could take care of the aggressors that tried to climb up there. So the Ranger ran up to meet Boromir, who was busy shooting at Uruks from the Hornburg itself.

"What are they doing?" The Ranger asked a bit breatheless.

"Being ugly", the Gondorian replied with a grin. "And dieing. A lot."

"Attention!" Háma shouted, "They are trying to attack the gates!" True to his words, the wooden doors gave a loud groan when the flood of Uruks branded against it. Luckily, it still held.

The attackers had their shield above their heads, but they left their flanks wide open, so Haldir took aim and shot, hitting one Uruk in the middle of the group. The Uruk tumbled sideways, tearing another one with it as it fell off the narrow ramp.

"Brace the Gates!" Gamling shouted as Uruks pounded against the gates. "Brace the Gates!"

Théoden scoffed as he watched the enemy brand uselessly against the strong wooden doors. "Is this it? Is this all you can conjure, Saruman?" he asked.

Aragorn aimed and shot down another Orc, when a loud roar echoed through the entire ravine. The Ranger only had a split second to realize that this was a different roar to what he heard before. And that was all he had as warning when his guts clenched painfully.

Suddenly the air around them shook violently and Aragorn found himself thrown off his feet when a mighty shockwave raced through the ravine. The rain seemed to halt in mid-air, millions of rain drops floating in the air as rubble and body parts where thrown around and the following cloud of dust silenced the battle for a moment.

* * *

Alex had kept true to his word. After he had reached the edge of the cliff, he had crouched down and simply waited. Patiently. Ignoring the screams inside his head that demanded him to jump down and rip through the army as long it was still marching. Maybe it would have been for the better, but when he went down there and attacked them _now_ , they would just retreat. No. Alex needed them trapped inside the ravine so none of them would ever return to Saruman.

His entire body began to bristle beneath his Armour as the Uruks and Orcs and Duneldings marched past him. Duneldings...It has been so long since he had devoured human flesh. The last time he did was the Ranger six and a half month ago. He wasn't especially hungry at the moment, but the promise of humans to feed upon was incredibly tempting. After all, Blacklight had been made to prey upon humans. Elves and Orcs and Dwarves were technically off the menu, just as animals were. Redlight certainly wouldn't be able to infect those, but Blacklight was able to do so as part of its superior genetic re-combination. And the virus was always hungry. Alex growled under his breath, watching his prey move by without taking notice of him.  
Blacklight was yearning to infect and consume. ZEUS was craving for death and destruction, but Alex was going to be patient and deny his desires, at least for the moment. Once the Uruks had stopped moving, he would give the signal by launching the first attack and unleash all his pent-up aggressions. Oh yes, it was going to be glorious.

The dark sky opened its locks and a massive rainstorm set in, much to his displeasure. The Virus inside him churned violently, torn between its intense hatred of water and the sheer lust for blood. Behind his faceplate, Alex narrowed his eyes. He felt irritated by the thousand of raindrops that hit him and caused a tingling sensation. Water could not hurt him, but he loathed it and his pure instinct told him to take cover and wait for the rain to stop. However, his rational mind kept his raw instincts under control.

After all, there were so many Uruks down there for him to slaughter. And his desire for battle is always stronger than his desire to keep dry. So he endured the rain. For glorious bloodbaths.

The enemy stopped in close rows. Alex smirked and slowly got up. Carefully, so his prey wouldn't take notice of him too early.

His arms shivered with countless tentacles as they shifted and changed, turning into the massive Hammerfists. Alex let the familiar weight pull him over. He slammed the fists together once and braced himself. With all his might, he hurled his body off the cliff and increased the density in his arms, shooting like a meteor towards the unsuspecting victims below.

His drop hit them completely unaware. A giant portion of the ground caved in and several dozens died from the sheer force of the impact alone. A part of the attackers spun around and stared at him, just in time to see him pull his arms back and shift them into the Tendrils.

His hands/tentacles shot to the front and impaled every Uruk from him to the one about ten meters away from him. Alex grinned behind his Armour and spread the Tentacles out like a demented spider net, impaling through more enemies. With a single flick, he tore all of them in half. Blood mixed with the smell of the rain and Alex hummed beneath his mask. The feeling of having an entire army at his mercy was just so enticing. And he wanted _more_ of it.

He leapt into the air, shifting to his Blade and came back down where the Uruks were. The impact on the floor made the beasts stagger and lose their concentration for a moment. Alex dashed towards them, slashing through armour like he did through flesh. The Uruks couldn't offer any resistance to his power. Unlimited power, and Alex had all of it in the palm of a hand.

It just felt so _good_ being the top of the food chain.

A tiny piece of his mind wondered whether this amount of violence was actually necessary when he tore an Uruk in half with his bare hands. A larger part of him just told him to shut the fuck up and enjoy it. And Alex gave in. He has done many regrettable things and defending a stronghold so the people inside could survive was actually one of the more noble things he did. It didn't really matter when he splattered himself with so much blood that it clogged his brain and switched his mind off.

The rain that pelted on him was quickly adding fire to his frenzy. His vision focused only on the living thing next to him and the weapon ZEUS took over completely, while Alex' rational mind shut down almost completely. _Do not hurt any of those in the Hornburg. Do not hurt any Humans or Elves or Dwarves or animals. Kill all Uruks._

With a roar, the Blacklight Virus lunged at the Uruks and began tearing away at them. The creatures retaliated, shooting arrows and swinging their weapons at him, but they were utterly useless against the chitinous shell. ZEUS roared in bloodlust and decapitated Orcs left and right, devouring many of them within seconds to unleash a powerful Groundspike Devastator a moment later.

Giant Black spikes, each of them the size of the wall, broke from the floor and spread through the ranks of the enemy, impaling every living creature within a radius that was about the size of the Times Square.

Those Uruks that survived tried to flee to the front, but found themselves boxed in by their companions, leaving them unable to escape.

ZEUS grinned and went for the kill, shredding through flesh and bone like they didn't exist. The floor became slippery with blood and entrails, and the panicked howls and shrieks of Orcs and Men only fuelled ZEUS' lust.

The weapon enjoyed the carnage. Whatever of Alex' rational mind was still awake watched with deep satisfaction at the damage he caused. Maybe it were the people inside him that wanted to vanquish the beasts that dared to attack their fellow humans, maybe it was the intense hatred for everything of all the Orcs he had devoured until now.

At any rate, it was exquisite.

He wasn't entirely sure how long he was at it, killing and consuming the enemy when something pulled at the edge of his mind, some memories that called Alex back to the front of his own body.

' _Gun powder...'_

' _A bomb?'_

The Armoured creature stopped its assault and turned his drenched body towards the source of the smell. Uruks hurried to haul two giant metallic balls to the front, far away from his current location.

Right. They had bombs. He's seen it in the memories of the Warg Riders.

' _I can't believe I forgot about them.'_

' _They want to blow up the walls, just like I would blow up Blackwatch compounds.'_

But on the walls were his allies. His _friends_. Alex could not allow this. ZEUS could not allow this. But how was he supposed to stop them? They were pretty far away and he _was_ surrounded by Uruks.

An image flashed before his eyes. Times Square. MOTHER.  
Alex' body suddenly froze and curled in on itself as the virus inside accessed a strain it assimilated when he mercilessly tore Greene out of her creature and devoured her.

His body jerked back as a powerful red shockwave raced from his core, causing his Armour to explode off his body like glass. In fact, almost his entire body was torn to shreds from his own attack, but the results were glorious: Those that were unfortunate enough to stand right next to him were vaporized within seconds, but the wave continued its deadly way, reducing everything within a circle of fifty yards to paste. Further away it caved in armours and sent the Orcs stumbling to their knees. It wasn't nearly enough to kill the majority of the attackers, but it did take a large chunk out of their numbers. Simultaneously, it also blew up the two bombs the Uruks carried far too early, creating a spectacular fireball. Dust covered the battlefield and silenced the raging war for a moment.

Though Alex himself only barely noticed it. His body had regenerated to a normal human appearance, but he couldn't call forth his Armour. Not that he would try though. _Everything_ hurt. And it hurt a lot.

"Okay", he grunted painfully, "That _hurt_. It was fucking awesome, but it _hurt_. Not gonna use this one again in the near future."

He groaned and tried to climb to his feet, but his body didn't obey his orders any more. He was just so _tired_. And hungry. But he couldn't move at all. The Shockwave had burnt off almost his entire Biomass.

"No wonder Greene didn't use that thing too often", he groaned, pushing himself to his hands and knees.  
Something snarled next to him and he slowly lifted his head, only to see a bunch of Uruk-Hai and Orcs gathering around him, swords ready to strike him down.

' _How did they come here so fast? Huh. Guess I kind of lost my sense of time there for a moment.'_

And he didn't have enough Biomass to defend himself.

Alex slumped in defeat. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Aragorn had been nearly flung off the wall when the massive crimson shockwave had hit. He didn't know where it came from, only that it was extremely powerful and brought nearly all the attacking Uruks and Orcs to their knees, as well as staggering most of the defenders. He watched in amazement at the raindrops that seemed to be suspended in mid-air. But maybe time had just stopped for a moment? Or he was dead and this was the moment his life was supposed to flash before his eyes?

Cold water pelted his face and he came to the realization that his brain had tricked him. He heard groaning around him and became acutely aware that he was lying on the ground and stared at the dark sky.

Then he heard the Uruks and was back on his feet in an instant, ignoring the hammering headache that threatened to split his skull.

"What in the name of the Valar was THAT?!" Boromir yelled. He was just in the process of picking himself up.

"I have no idea", Aragorn admitted, "But I dearly hope it will not occur another time."

 _*CRACK*_

"THE GATE IS BREAKING!" Somebody yelled. All around them people swore and struggled to stand upright as fast as they could.

"HOLD THE POSITION!" Théoden barked; already back on his feet, "THEY CAN NOT ENTER THE HORNBURG!"

"Damn!" Boromir hissed, "We can't keep the situation secure any longer!"

"We need to retreat!" Aragorn realized. "Boromir! The gate is broken! We need to retreat!"

"I'll get Théoden and secure the Gate until the men are inside the keep!" Boromir declared, sprinting off.

Aragorn nodded and turned, running back towards the walls. _"To the keep!"_ he yelled in Sindarin, _"We pull back!"_

The Elves had already realized how desperate the situation had become. Sure, the strange blast had staggered the Orcs, but sadly it also threw about half of the defenders off and barely affected the ladders. And the attackers were faster than the defenders.

Uruks began to appear on the walls in hundreds, assaulting the Elves. Most of them weren't in any condition to fight back and were mercilessly mowed down. Aragorn could see Legolas and Gimli diving at the Orcs to drive them back, but it were too many.

" _Retreat!"_ the Ranger yelled again and the Elves finally moved back to the keep. They couldn't hold it any longer.

Aragorn's blood rushed in his ears as he and Legolas dragged Gimli away and into the safety of the keep where Théoden and his men were desperately fighting to keep the gate, but they were losing this battle.

Aragorn rushed towards them, noting that Boromir was already present.

"We can't hold it much longer!" Gamling yelled in desperation. Aragorn narrowed his eyes. "I can keep them away", he declared.

"You can hold them?" The King asked the Ranger.

"How long do you need?" Aragorn asked.

"As long as you can give me."

Boromir and Aragorn looked at each other, then turned to Gimli. There was a grin on the Dwarf's face and the three nodded in understanding. Háma showed them the way to a secret exit and they quickly left the Hornburg. Outside was just a narrow ledge, forcing the three to carefully climb along to reach the outside of the gatehouse. The Ranger peeked around the corner, estimating the distance between the ledge they were on and the gate.

Uruks tried to break through the already severely weakened gates and even more tried to push forwards. Luckily, the ramp leading to the gate was very narrow, so it would be easy to pick off the attacking beasts and prevent them from entering the Hornburg for a short moment.

"We can take them", Gimli growled.

"It's a long way", Aragorn noted with a frown.

Gimli fell silent. "Toss me", he ordered after thinking for a moment.

Boromir arched his brows up. "Really?"

"I can't jump the distance", the Dwarf explained. "You have to toss me."

Aragorn locked eyes with his fellow Man, who only shrugged. Just as they went to grab the Dwarf, he held them back. "Don't tell the Elf."

"We won't", the two Men promised.

They chucked their companion over the gap with a battle cry, then followed themselves. The Uruks stopped in surprise, staring at the three warriors. A second later and all three started to slash at the attackers.

Boromir and Aragorn delivered long strokes, slicing through the unprotected necks and slashing through shoulders. Gimli aimed at the legs, making the Uruks stumble. Killing them here had the additional advantage of bodies piling up. The attackers had to wade through them to get to the gate, but that only slowed them down a bit. There were way too many Uruks and the three fighters were already greatly exhausted from the previous battle. They couldn't hold them for long, but they could stop them just long enough to allow the others to retreat into the Hornburg.

Just as they started to get tired, Théoden appeared atop the gatehouse. "Gimli! Aragorn! Boromir!" He shouted, "Get out of there!" The three weren't going to let the others tell them that a second time. Legolas and Haldir were next to the King a second later and dropped a rope down to them. The three fighters wasted no time to latch onto it and the two Elves quickly pulled them upwards and away from the Uruks.

Just as they climbed over the battlements, Aragorn saw of a large group of Orcs crowding together in the very rear, tearing something to pieces.

He couldn't think about it though, first they had to get away from here. The Uruks would soon take everything over.

"We need to retreat!" Théoden ordered, "They have broken through. The castle is breached."

They pulled back, but the Ranger caught a glimpse of what appeared to be black entrails that the foul creatures threw in every direction. Just what was happening back there?

* * *

The armies of Isengard had taken over the stronghold of Helm's Deep and were now trying to break through the door that was all that was left between them and the humans. The Rohirrim and the Elves that managed to escape had fled to the Hornburg and barricaded the entrance, but they knew it was just a matter of time until the enemy would manage to break inside and massacre everybody.

Aragorn muttered under his breath. "Where is he?" he asked out loud. "Why hasn't he come here?"

Legolas sighed and got up from where he was checking up on the injured men. "I am afraid that he is no longer among us", he declared darkly. "I am afraid he has fallen."

"Impossible", Boromir snapped, "He said he couldn't die."

"Then why isn't he here?" Haldir asked. He had a nasty cut on his forehead that bled profoundly, but he was more worried about the state his men were in. He glared at Aragorn and Boromir with a dark gaze. "He has left us", the Elf declared grimly, "Whether out of free will or through the hands of the enemy, I can not say."

Théoden didn't hear him when he stared at nothing. The Hornburg was breached. Now there wasn't much left that protected them from the monsters outside. He had failed, had doomed his people.

"The fortress is taken", he muttered exhausted. "It is over."

"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defended it!" Aragorn snapped, stalking towards the King, "They are still defending it! They _died_ defending it!"

There was a loud bang on the door. The men jumped and stared at the entrance, but luckily the wood still held. Boromir narrowed his eyes and turned towards the men. "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?"

"There is one passage", Gamling admitted, "It leads into the mountains...but they will not get far. The Uruk-Hai are too many."

Boromir grabbed his shoulders. "Send word to the women and children to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the entrance!"

"So much death", Théoden grieved, "What can men do against such reckless hate?"

"Ride out with me", Aragorn demanded. The King lifted his head to see the grim expression on his face and instantly realized what he was planning. "Ride out and meet them", Isildur's heir pressed on.

"For death and glory?"

"For Rohan. For your people."

Théoden's face set into determination. The sun was rising and Aragorn remembered what Gandalf had promised. _'Look to my coming, at first light, on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East.'_

"Yes!" The King declared. "The Horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep, one last time!" Gimli whooped and scampered off to blow the mighty horn atop the Keep. Théoden stepped to the front, unsheathing his sword and holding it towards the ceiling. "Let this be the hour when we draw swords together! Feel deeds awake! Now for wrath! Now for Ruin! And the red dawn!"

The Soldiers slammed their weapons against their shields and yelled their agreement, their vigour renewed.

Saruman was not going to win this war.

* * *

Being torn to pieces by a shitload of pissed off Uruk-Hai was not something Alex had ever thought would happen to him. But it did.

And it _hurt_.

The Blacklight Virus was only barely holding onto his consciousness, but it was so hard. These fuckers were throwing pieces of him everywhere and he didn't have enough Biomass to regenerate or fight back or _anything_. His flesh and long since forgone trying to repair the damage the Uruks caused and had mostly shut off.

Much of his body was gone already and he was missing his limbs too. His face apparently too, because he couldn't see shit.

But the Orcs didn't stop tearing into him when they have reduced him to basically the remains of his torso. There was a wet _snap_ as one of them ripped something out of him and chucked it away with an enraged snarl.

Alex assumed he was lucky that they didn't _eat_ him. That would be kind of ironic.

He winced internally. Maybe he shouldn't think about eating. He was just so hungry, but he couldn't move.

Alex felt his consciousness slipping further away and he was close to just falling asleep.

' _What about the others?'_ His mind was nearly shutting off when that one question twitched through his brain. Or Biomass. Or whatever he had to store memories, because he was sure as hell he didn't have a _head_ anymore.

' _What about them?'_

' _They'll die without my help. Think of Èothain and Freda.'_

' _But I can't do anything. I have no Biomass left. And I'm just so tired.'_

An angry thought suddenly flashed through his mind and pulled him back. How dare he give up now?

' _I'm beyond life and death'_

' _I'm something less of a human...but also something more...'_

' _Not human...but BLACKLIGHT'_

' _These idiots just spread the virus. What do viruses do when they spread?'_

If Alex had eyes, they would have widened in realization.

He was no longer human! He was a virus! Blacklight! What if his physical form has been torn asunder? _He_ was still there. Still alive. _ZEUS_ can not be killed by mere Uruk-Hai!

A deep pounding howl shook the air. Somebody had blown the Horn of Helm's Deep. This was his signal. These bastards didn't know who they were dealing with.

Alex spread his awareness, away from his central core and to every bit of his Biomass that was churning with the virus. He could feel his mass, he could sense every bit of him. And he could taste the flesh of the Uruks. They weren't too careful when they threw him everywhere, coating themselves with his matter. But you don't do that when dealing with viruses.

 _ **Infect.**_

 _ **Consume.**_

 _ **Become.**_

Alex gave only a single order and his body reacted, even if it was torn asunder. The Uruk-Hai howled out in pain as the bits and pieces of the hooded man that had made contact with them suddenly dug into their bodies and infected their systems within seconds. Orcs collapsed when Blacklight changed them, melted them into a black formless shape. The assault stopped almost immediately since all of the attackers around him were twisted and corrupted by the virus. Those that were further away stepped back in alarm, unsure of how to continue.

ZEUS let out a rumbling growl and the fresh Biomass began to form tendrils that latched onto each other, forming a fine web. With another mental order, the mass snapped tentacles out and grabbed even more Uruks, infecting and consuming them as well. Alex could literally _feel_ the Biomass pulse back towards him, twisting and changing, agglomerating and stretching out at the same time. The virus was churning within his substance, yearning to make them whole once more. Alex was dimly aware that his senses had come back to him, but what he saw was somehow twisted, like watching them from a wrong angle and from too many places at once.  
No matter. He could deal with that later. First of, he was going to kill these sons of bitches.

The Uruks screeched in panic as tentacles began to grow thicker and longer, threatening to snatch them even across a larger distance. Black Biomass snapped outside, trying to grab and devour more victims. The creatures fought back, slashing their swords at it or shot their bows, maybe stabbing it with their daggers.

Alex scoffed. As if this was going to help them. He is a _God_. They can't kill ZEUS.

With an earth-shaking roar he shot countless Tentacles and Spikes out from his body, impaling, infecting and consuming _anything_ they came in contact with. He was just barely aware that there were creatures other than Uruks around them.  
Humans and Horses? Yeah, no thanks. Don't eat them. Only the dark-skinned bastards.

Orcs howled in panic, trying to escape the Eldritch Abomination, but Alex wouldn't let them. He jerked his body towards them, biting down with a pronged beak. _That_ did stop him for a split second as he realized that he _still_ hadn't shifted back into his human shape. Also, there were horse riders all around him. It would be better if they didn't step into his Biomass and got accidentally eaten. He had managed to prevent his Devastator from targeting _them_ , but he really wasn't going to take any chances. He frowned and focused, drawing back his Biomass, condensing and compressing it until he had finally settled back into his armoured human shape.

With a distinct 'snk' he changed his Blade on one arm and his Shield on the other like some dark Viral Knight. He turned towards the terrified Orcs. "Guess who is back?"

* * *

The gates to the Hornburg blew wide open, revealing the warriors of Rohan on their steeds. The Uruks that had previously tried to break down the door stepped back in surprise, staring at the newly appeared threat.

"Forð Eorlingas!" Théoden shouted and charged the enemy troops. Aragorn and Boromir followed him, and then the entire remaining Rohirrim. The ramp was narrow, allowing only two horses next to each other at the same time, but that also meant the foul creatures got bowled over and thrown over the side. Haldir and the other Elves were back at the top of the keep, shooting arrows at anything that wasn't friendly.

With thundering hooves the steeds tore through the Uruk-Hai and their riders mercilessly slaughtered any opposing force. The horses snorted and neighed as Orcs branded against them and were brutally ran over.

But it seemed as if the Uruks had already greatly lost their formation. Something had broken through their ranks and destabilized them greatly, even before the Rohirrim appeared.

The hair at the back of Aragorn's neck suddenly stood straight and that was all the warning he needed. "DUCK!" he just shouted, shortly before a giant black tentacle raced over their heads and dug into the cliff nearby. Countless smaller tendrils coiled out of the main branch and whipped through the air. Uruks were fleeing from the black matter as those that were too slow were trapped and melted down, so the Rohirrim also kept their distance. A mighty roar shook the very ground they were on, drawing their attention to its source.

"By the Valar!" Boromir gasped, and the riders barely dodged a barrage of spikes and tentacles that ripped massive amounts of Orcs to pieces. Aragorn had the feeling that they only managed to dodge in time was because the...thing was consciously aiming at the armies of Isengard and avoided the humans at all costs.

The Ranger heard the men around him inhale sharply as soon as they laid their eyes on what was in the centre of the carnage.

It was something huge. It was a giant mass of black and red with orange veins pulsing aggressively. It shuddered once and a huge snake with a two-pronged beak-like jaw shot outwards, tearing through earth and flesh with a barbed tongue. It shrieked once before everything melted back into black and red flesh that twitched violently as it pulled itself into an extremely dense pile that quickly branched outwards, shaping arms and legs and growing thick black armour. Its arms changed into a giant Blade and a massive spiked shield as it took a thundering step towards the terrified Uruk-Hai.

"Guess who is back?" It asked with a heavily distorted voice that would have send any lesser man cowering. The warrior let out a low growl before he charged, slicing through any and all opposition with little to no effort at all.

"Hah!" Aragorn suddenly shouted in realization, "You crazy bastard!" He spurred his horse and Brego shot to the front as his rider slashed through the enemy. "Is that you, Alex?"

"Who else?" The plague in the shape of a man gave back, smashing his Shield into a group of Orcs, rendering them into a bloody pile at his feet. He cocked his head and 'eyed' Aragorn (his face plate had no eyes, after all). "Sorry about the mess just now. I was kind of... scatterbrained."

"I'm sure you can tell us later on", Aragorn gave back, slicing through an Uruk-Hai.

By now, the Rohirrim had managed to overcome their shock and targeted the remaining Orcs and Uruks. After all, the heir of Isildur was just casually conversing with the armoured creature that had been a formless eldritch mass just a few moments before.

The Ranger paused and his gaze caught the rising Sun in the east, just at the top of the steep slope that ran down to the battlefields.

"Gandalf", he breathed out.

The White Wizard, barely visible against the glare of the sun, was there, sitting on the back of his white horse Shadowfax. He watched the battlefield before them as a large group of riders peeled from the bright light.

Gandalf had discovered Èomer and his Eored and had persuaded them to come to their aid. Their swords sang, clearly audible even through the ruckus of battle, when they were drawn from their sheaths. Èomer lifted his sword above his head, giving a wordless battle cry.

"To the King!" the Riders shouted, their voices echoing in the ravine as they charged.  
Two Thousand horses set into motion, shaking the ground as they dashed towards the Uruk-Hai. The foul creatures were no longer able to fight. Their numbers have been greatly reduced and their morale was non-existent from the previous night, so they were easy prey.

In a cacophony of breaking bones and tearing flesh, the Rohirrim broke through their formation and slaughtered every single Uruk-Hai that dared to stand in their way.

The armies of Isengard were ripped asunder down to the last Orc.

* * *

 **Ability unlocked: Crimson Shockwave Devastator. "It hurts and burns off your entire Biomass, reducing you to a whimpering wreck on the floor. But who cares? It's fucking awesome!"**

 **Ability unlocked: Remote Control. "Now you're thinking with viruses! Eat people that aren't even in the same room with you!"**


	19. After the battle

After the battle

What pitifully remains were left of Saruman's great army fled. They ran for their lives, away from the ravine. Away from the Men, away from the Elves, away from the Monster in their midst. They hoped that in escape they would find salvation, but by running they only drew the monster's attention to them. One of them made the grave mistake of looking back- and subsequently losing sight of the path before him. When the Uruk stumbled just slightly, the monster was upon him in an instant, disembowelling him within seconds. The remaining forces managed to break away while their companion was shredded alive.

Alex slowly lifted his head and watched them escape with a smirk, though unseen through his face plate. Originally, he never intended to leave any of them alive, but if they managed to get back to Mordor to tell their friends of their losses, Sauron's armies would be demoralized for the next few decades.

Initially, he thought it would be problematic to just leave them be and call off the hunt as his instincts just screamed at him to pursue the fleeing prey, but Alex knew better. He wasn't a slave of his instincts and thus could mercifully allow them to escape.

He already knew that they wouldn't survive one way or another, since the forest the Orcs escaped to hasn't been there the day before.

It looked like the Rohirrim had noticed that as well, since their leader rode to the front to block his men from pursuing any further.

"Do not follow them!" He shouted at his men "Stay out of the forest! Keep away from the trees!"

As soon as the last Uruk had vanished, the trees suddenly groaned and swayed, and the shrieks of the Orcs told them all they needed. Alex grinned like a maniac at the display.

' _Trees killing Orcs'_ , he thought amused, _'Now I can tell Dana that I've seen it all.'_

He stood up from where he was crouched over the remains of his latest victim and rolled his shoulders, flexing his talons. As soon it was clear that the armies of Isengard had lost, the virus had shifted to his claws, for they were faster and better for dealing with fleeing prey. He paused at the distinct sound of a sword being drawn.

He didn't even need to look to know that the Rohirrim Leader was aiming his weapon right into his face. _'His name is Èomer, wasn't it? Èowyn told me of him.'_

"Turn around", the Rohan Warrior demanded with a poisonous tone. "Slowly."

Alex decided to amuse the man and followed his orders. He even held out his claws to keep them in plain sight in a mocking gesture of submission. The horse master sucked in the air through his clenched teeth. "Demon!" He hissed, "You are the one that slaughtered the Uruks near the Fangorn!"

"And now I'm here and have slaughtered Uruks at Helm's Deep. Crazy, huh?" Alex replied with a taunting tone. He noticed how the man's hand was shaking as he aimed his sword at his face. The armoured virus tilted his head. "That's a foolish thing to do", he pointed out. "At the moment, I have no problems with you. But if you try to hurt me, I will see the need to do something about it."

Èomer narrowed his eyes on the virus. "You would kill me? Just as you did the Uruks?"

"I wouldn't", Alex pointed out, carefully enunciating each word, "I would bat you a bit around, maybe hang you over a cliff with my tendrils. But I won't kill you." He took a step back and pulled his shell back into his body, much to the man's complete surprise. "You are one of the good guys. I don't hurt the good guys."

The horse master watched him with a frown. "Why?" He asked and Alex had the distinct feeling that he was just a bit too slow to stop himself from voicing his thoughts.

"Why I won't hurt you? Why should I? I have nothing to fear from you, might as well leave you alone." He pulled his lips up in a sort of smile. "Besides, I would want to return to my sister and be able to look her into the eyes, and I know I can't do that if I hurt good people."

Èomer turned that over in his head. He had clearly seen what the man in front of him was able to do. The remains of the Uruk army were more than enough proof, after all.

"Then give me your name, demon", he asked.

"Mercer. Alex Mercer", Alex replied. "And I'm not a demon."

"No?"

"I'm just a guy who woke up in a morgue with scary super powers and no memories of his former life."

He turned and walked past the Rohirrim. "C'mon. I bet there are some things left for us to do down there."

Èomer noticed him glance at the keep, where Èowyn emerged from the Hornburg. A few of the Refugees followed after her, amazed to see the sun again after such a horrid night.

More and more people appeared.

Alex watched them, how they ran to embrace their sons, fathers or brothers in utter gratitude that they were still alive. However, for every family that could reunite with their loved once, there were always those that cried out in utter despair when they discovered those they missed lying dead on the floor. Their voices send stabs through his heart and made him realize that this was what the families of the many Blackwatch soldiers felt. He knew that he couldn't bring anybody back once they were lost, but still the reality of this felt wrong.

"You did the first steps", Gandalf spoke up. The virus slowly turned his head towards him, waiting for him to continue. "Towards redemption. You have promised to keep the people of Rohan safe, and you kept your word. Though there are losses to be mourned, the innocent have survived."

They watched how Èowyn hugged Aragorn tightly, glad that he survived the night. Alex could see Èothain and Freda come out of the caves beneath the stronghold with their mother, squinting at the light. They noticed him standing there and waved at him with beaming faces. The hooded man slowly lifted his hand to wave back awkwardly, but still he felt that alone for these three the whole ordeal was worth it.

"For what it's worth", Èomer sighed, "Thank you, Alex Mercer."

The virus gave a non-verbal grunt of acknowledgement and walked away from them. He still could help here before they would leave this place.

* * *

Legolas was greatly saddened by the loss of several of his Elven brethren, though Haldir claimed that all of them knew what they were getting themselves into. And more, they have come to Helm's Deep specifically to fight and die for Mankind. The Elf watched how several men pulled bodies from where they fell and brought them to the front of the keep. Men and Elves were laid out carefully, while the Duneldings, Orcs and Uruk-Hai were dragged away and piled together. They would be burnt and the land would be cleansed of their foul influence.

The Elf didn't have so much to do, so he went to Gimli to check up on his best friend. "Last count: forty-two", he declared. He and the Dwarf had begun playing a game to numb their minds from the horrors of the night. Only the Gods knew how much they needed the distraction.

"Forty-two?" Gimli asked with a surprised face, "Not bad for a pointy-eared Elvish princeling!" He took a drag from his pipe, then tapped the Orc he was sitting on. "I myself am sitting pretty on forty- _three_."

Legolas furrowed his brow and quickly shot an arrow at the Orc. The projectile stuck with a resounding _thuck_. "Forty-Three", he declared with a grin.

"He was already dead!" Gimli protested. He was probably only agitated because Legolas had landed the arrow too close to his private parts, and the Elf knew this.

"He was twitching."

The Dwarf laughed. "He was twitching because he's got my axe embedded in his nervous system!" He wriggled the handle of his axe and the cadaver gave a weak flinch. Legolas chuckled a bit. He lifted his head as he heard the sound of stone on stone, witnessing how their hooded companion was dragging the boulder out of the drain. He didn't seem to have any troubles as he hauled the massive stone out and carried it several yards away to settle it down. The Men around them could only stare in awe. Gimli turned to Alex, who was just dusting off his hands. "How many did you get, Alex?"

"Probably more than you two combined and multiplied by eight." He shrugged. "I can't really tell, but if you really want to know, I could count body parts and give you a rough estimate."

"I don't think that would be necessary", Legolas claimed. "I have seen the...results of your work. It is..." He struggled to find the right words, "Quite...impressive. I have never seen to much blood at once."

"Good", the virus grinned, "I kind of stopped counting after I discovered that Kill-All-Blast I could do."

"The Crimson Shockwave", Legolas noted, "That was _your_ doing?"

"'Crimson Shockwave Devastator'", the hooded man mused, "Now that is an awesome name. Yeah, I did that. It was also fucking epic, but I did burn up almost my whole reserves. No wonder Greene didn't use it more often."

"Hph", Gimli grunted, "Then why did it take you so long to get to the keep and help us against the hordes?"

"I didn't have any reserves left and went right into a weakened state. Not really pretty, especially when those bastards _ripped_ me _apart_."

"How did you survive this?!" Boromir gasped. The Gondorian had trailed closer and now stood staring with a slack jaw at the man.

"I _am_ a walking colony of sentient viral cells." Alex reminded him. "As it is, I can still control pieces of me that are no longer connected to me. I ordered them to consume any organics they touched and...I might have overdone it. But then again, I was technically _everywhere_."

"That really wasn't a very nice sight, I admit", Aragorn agreed. Isildur's heir sat on a boulder. "But I am glad all of us survived the night."

They turned at the sound of a soft clip-clop. Gandalf had arrived on his steed, watching the men. "You have won a great battle", the Wizard stated, "But Sauron's Wrath will be terrible, his retribution swift." He turned to the East, watching the rising sun. "The Battle for Helm's Deep is over. The Battle for Middle Earth is about to begin. All our hopes now lie with two little Hobbits, somewhere in the wilderness."

Nobody said anything for a while until Gandalf turned to his companions. "Come, my friends. We will head for Isengard now." He smiled and there was a spark in his eyes. "It is time to meet some friends."

* * *

A group of riders passed through the Fangorn Forest. King Théoden and Èomer nearly jumped at every sound that echoed in the woods. They were nervous, and understandably so. After all, they had just witnessed a few hours before how trees of this forest smashed the remains of Saruman's army. They weren't very keen on repeating this.

Boromir and Gimli appeared to be slightly less nervous than the first time they were here, while Legolas had no troubles at all. Gandalf was leading the way and Aragorn was talking to Alex, who simply jogged along with their horses. He left pretty deep footprints in the soft forest floor, but other than that barely made a sound.

It really wasn't fair that a thing that weighed as much as a hundred Orcs was still able to sneak up on somebody should he wish so.

The King inhaled once as the trees gave way to the mighty Tower of Orthanc of Isengard. It stood there like a giant black spike, reaching five hundred feet into the air. Now there was no way back. They were going to face Saruman, the one that had imprisoned his mind and threatened his people with death. They would face him, and judge about what would happen to him.

The sun was beating down on them as they rode across the devastated plains of Isengard. Legolas stopped to prick up his ears. The whole place was eerily silent, but there was something that somehow didn't belong here: The happy laughter of Hobbits.

It didn't take the newcomers very long to discover the culprits. Merry and Pippin sat atop a low storage building and were enjoying themselves immensely. As soon as they noticed them, they waved their pipes at them, grinning like they had the time of their life. "Welcome my Lords, to Isengard!" They greeted cheekily.

Aragorn grinned, while Gimli flew into a fit. "You young rascals!" He ranted, "A merry chase you've led us on, and now we find you feasting...and smoking!"

"We are sitting on the field of victory", Pippin declared proudly, "Enjoying a few well-earned comforts." He leaned to the front and lowered his voice. "The salted pork is particularly good."

"Salted Pork?!" Gimli gasped. The Hobbits nodded happily. Gandalf only rolled his eyes, muttering "Hobbits!" under his breath.

"We are under orders from Treebeard, who has taken over management of Isengard", Merry added with a serious edge in his voice, though his goofy grin took the bite out of it.

The Hobbits took their sweet time to get off the shed to be hoisted up into the saddles so they could accompany their friends. Alex frowned at them. "How much of this leafy stuff have you been smoking?"

"Not so much", Merry said.

"I would rather say, almost none at all", Pippin agreed.

"Yup. Nearly nothing."

The Blacklight virus rolled his eyes. "That much, huh?"

"It appears that way", Aragorn confirmed with a lop-sided smirk.

"Hobbits!" Gandalf groaned again.

Shadowfax kicked up water. Immediately, Alex jumped back out of pure instinct and hissed at the liquid. Èomer and Théoden both flinched at the hateful sound, though Aragorn only quirked and eyebrow. "That's right", he noted, "You don't like water."

"Yeah", Alex admitted, "I'll just...take the dry route." He turned and swiftly climbed over what was left of Saruman's machinery. The wreckage groaned beneath his weight, but held.

The ground suddenly shook and the virus paused, turning around, though without any signs of trying to shred whoever approached them. "Hi Treebeard."

Now Théoden and Èomer really jumped, falling nearly out of their saddles. Boromir and Gimli both weren't better off either. Aragorn and Legolas just stared with slack jaws as a tall tree-man took a step towards them.

"An Ent", the Elf whispered in surprise. The tree-man nodded at the group and turned to Gandalf.

"Young Master Gandalf", the Tree greeted him, "I'm glad you've come." He motioned towards the tower. "Wood and Water, stock and stone I can master, but there's a Wizard to manage here, locked in his tower."

"I am aware", the White Wizard said, "Let me talk to him. Maybe I can get through to Saruman."

Treebeard nodded and slowly turned around to accompany them to the mighty tower of Orthanc, though he did leave quite soon again to check up on his brothers.  
Alex could feel the tension in the air as the group drew closer. He knew that they were pretty jumpy and he wondered how this talk was supposed to go. If he had a word to say in this, then this was going to be over pretty quick. But he decided that Gandalf was going to get his chance, even if he didn't like it.

Aragorn threw a glance back at Alex, noting the tendrils that lashed out of the man's skin. He was angry, but why?

The Ranger shook his head and turned his attention to the tower, picking up his voice.

"Show yourself!" He demanded with a loud voice. For some reason, his voice carried wide and Alex wondered whether it was the magic of the place that allowed Aragorn's voice to be heard even at the top of the tower. Logic demanded that it wasn't possible.

"Be careful", Gandalf warned them, "Even in defeat he is dangerous."

"The let's just have his head and be done with it", Gimli scoffed.

Gandalf shook his head. "No. We need him alive." He glared at the Dwarf. "We need him to talk."

' _Oh. I don't need to keep him alive to make him talk'_ , Alex thought with a frown. _'But let's see you work your magic, Gandalf.'_

He heard a faint rustle from atop the tower and watched as a man with a white beard appeared at the edge. He watched them idly, leaning on his staff.

' _Saruman'_ , Alex thought, ' _So we finally meet in the flesh.'_

The Wizard spoke up, and though his voice was nothing more than a soothing murmur, he was clearly understandable down at the base of the tower. Despite being five hundred feet off the ground.

"You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden King", Saruman stated. He held out a hand, palm facing upwards. "And made peace afterwards." He tilted his head. "Can we not take council together, as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?"

Alex scoffed and glared at the wizard. He clearly felt the soothing effect of his voice, one that was able to calm down even the most ferocious monster or turn friends on each other should Saruman wish so. It only fuelled the anger the virus felt. How dare he talk about peace? He who tried to have them all killed?

He felt his insides twist angrily and he noticed that Théoden was getting enthralled. "We shall have peace", the old king murmured. Alex was about to snap him out of it, when Théoden suddenly raised his voice. "We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there." He snorted in disgust and continued. "We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged!" He glared at the wizard with such an intense determination that Alex took a step back and realized that he had in fact respect for the old man. "When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows..." Théoden barked, "Then we shall have peace!"

Saruman let out a nasty laughter. "Gibbets and crows? Dotard!" He turned his attention to Gandalf, since he didn't reach what he wanted with Théoden. "What do you want, Gandalf Grayhame?" He sneered, "Let me guess: The key to Orthanc, or perhaps the key to Barad-Dûr itself, along with the crowns of the seven Kings and the rods of the five wizards?"

' _Wow. He went from good cop to mean cop pretty fast'_ , Alex thought with a frown. He had no real interest in letting Saruman _live_ but he also wanted to see whether Gandalf could actually get the guy to co-operate. They had some sort of past, didn't they?

"Your treachery has already cost many lives!" Gandalf stated, "Thousands more are now at risk, but _you_ could _save_ them, Saruman! You were deep in the enemy's council!"

So that is how he wanted to play. Plead with Saruman until he caved in and gave them what they wanted. It worked with weak-willed people, but not so with that wizard. And Alex knew that.

Saruman knew it too, for his expression suddenly changed into a wide grin. "So you have come here for information. I have some for you."

Alex' surface twitched as the Wizard pulled a black orb from his robes. It wasn't much larger than a medium-sized melon, but Alex knew out of instinct that this thing was bad news. He found his point of view to be correct when he heard Gandalf inhale sharply.

"Something festers in the heart of Middle Earth", Saruman claimed, "Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage. His attack is coming soon."

Gandalf moved Shadowfax to the front while Saruman continued with a dark tone in his voice. "You're all going to die." He narrowed his eyes on his fellow Wizard. "But you know this, don't you, Gandalf?"

Saruman now glared at Aragorn, though he did address Gandalf "You cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be king." His icy gaze met Aragorn's. "Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to love." His gaze narrowed. "Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom?" Saruman bared his teeth. "The path you have set him on can only lead to death."

Gimli snorted. "I've heard enough." He poked Legolas. "Shoot him. Stick an arrow in his gob." Legolas reached for his quiver, but Gandalf stopped him with a sharp "No"

The Wizard glared up to the other man. "Come down, Saruman. And you life will be spared."

"Save your pity and your mercy", Saruman spat. "I have no use for it!"

"FINALLY!" Alex snapped, drawing the attention. Saruman's statement showed clearly that he wasn't interested in any sort of co-operation. And that meant that the Blacklight Virus could use his own brand of Justice. Before anybody could stop him, he had coiled the muscles in his legs and leapt off the wreckage he stood on. The sheer force of his jump had completely shattered his perch and caused the horses to stumble. The virus twisted his body in mid-air, so he hit the tower of Orthanc with the feet first. He seriously didn't care what the others shouted after him, but he was going to go through with what he had planned.

Without thinking, he started to sprint, hearing the stone crack beneath his feet. Tendrils lashed out of his lower extremities as he pushed himself to his top speed. He could feel Orthanc shake beneath every step he did.

"Alex!" Aragorn yelled, "Get back here! Alex!"

' _Sorry buddy, but I really have to do this.'_

He ducked his body and leapt off the wall, catapulting himself high into the air and high over the four spires of the tower. He hit the flat platform atop the tower with so much force it shook Orthanc once more and send Saruman stumbling. Alex realized with a frown that the greasy guy from Edoras was present as well. He just hoped he wouldn't spoil his appetite.

Saruman responded to his sudden appearance by shooting a fireball into his face. The Blacklight Virus didn't even bother to defend himself. He had more than enough Biomass to easily withstand a little ember. With a low growl, he crossed the distance between himself and Saruman while shrugging off the scorched Biomass. With an impossible fast motion, he seized the Wizard on his throat, wrested the staff out of his hands and lifted him off the floor, dangling him over the edge of the roof. The orb he held was dropped out of sight.

"Stop this madness at once!" Gandalf shouted. "Let him go, Alex!"

"I won't!" The virus snapped, squeezing a bit harder. Saruman hissed and clawed at his arm, trying to break free. "Do you know how many people died because of him? Do you?! He is to blame for this whole war! _He will pay!_ "

"Thousands have died, and Saruman will have to answer to his crimes", Gandalf continued, "But not in that way. We _need_ him, Alex. We need to know what he knows."

He heard Aragorn groan out in realization and a demonic smirk came to his face.

' _That's right. Gandalf doesn't know about my...special way of acquiring information.'_ This made this whole thing easier. They would get the information and Saruman was going to pay.

The virus glared at the Wizard in his hand, then slowly took a step back, dragging him away from the five-hundred feet drop.

He could nearly _feel_ Gandalf exhale in relief.

' _Time to burst that bubble'_

The virus let out a short outcry and swung Saruman with all force into the ground, head-first. He grinned in darks satisfaction as he heard the Wizard's bones break. Alex' feeding tendrils dug in hungrily, devouring the body. As he pulled back a moment later, he swayed with the overload of information that shot through his brain. Months of feeding off dim-witted Orcs made him forget that humans generally had more memories and thoughts than Uruks.

And Saruman had a lot of memories that had to be collected and filed away. Alex let out a low hiss and proceeded with simply shoving them to the back of his brain. He didn't have time for them _now_ , so he just skimmed over the last few years to get a few information. With his mind quickly cleared, he slowly straightened his back. There was one thing he still had to do before he could leave Isengard.

Slowly, he turned towards the greasy guy. His name was Gríma.

And _he_ was the one who told Saruman of Helm's Deep. Of the refugees. And of the drain.

"So it was _you_ ", Alex snarled. "You had Saruman attack the refugees. You had him attack the innocent." Gríma whimpered and tried to back off, but Alex was faster. He grabbed him and effortlessly ripped him in half with his bare hands, throwing the body parts away to let them skitter over the roof of the Orthanc. With his anger gone, the Prototype turned back to the edge of the roof and simply stepped off, dropping towards the ground. He had taken care that he wouldn't end up too close to Gandalf and the others, so they wouldn't accidentally be smashed by him, though he did end up in the water, causing a massive fountain in the process. Gandalf opened his mouth to yell at him, but Alex cut him off with a scowl. "Dol Guldur", he stated shortly, "Minas Tirith. Dale. These are the places Sauron will most likely strike next." The Wizard clapped his mouth shut and blinked at him.

"How do you know of this?"

"I _know_ because Saruman knew, okay? Sauron will launch an attack on either of these three places. Or perhaps on none of them. Saruman didn't know jack about Sauron's plans."

"You took his memories", Legolas gasped, "When you devoured him."

"Was it really necessary to kill Saruman?" Aragorn asked. "Was it?"

"What else was there to do with him? Let him go? Leave him here?" Alex scowled deeply. "People like Saruman are better off dead. I don't care if you say that he got off too easily, but a dead foe is better than a living one."

"Don't be so hasty to deal out death in punishment", Gandalf claimed, repeating what he said in Moria. "An important lesson for you to learn still. Saruman was panicked in the face of Sauron's threat."

"Oh really? From what I've seen, he was on this for _decades_ , Gandalf. Ever since you discovered the Ring, he's been skittering around his feet", the virus snapped. "This whole army- the entire plan- he's been working on them for quite a while already." He crossed his arms, glaring at the Wizard defiantly. "Look, I don't care if you think Saruman could be redeemed. What counted was what he did now. And he directly threatened Rohan. This whole army was _his_ , not Sauron's. _Saruman_ had the Duneldings attack the Westfold. _Saruman_ had the Warg riders attack the refugees. _Saruman_ sent the Uruks after us at Amon Hen. And for that, he had to die."

"But you cannot be a judge of that", Gandalf sighed. "No man can."

"Newsflash: I am _not_ human. And anyways, imagine we'd let him live. What do you think would have happened? He could have gotten free and went to enslave the Shire. Or go back to Rohan once you are no longer there. Or anywhere really." He shook his head. "I did what had to be done."

The ground shook when Treebeard returned to them, looking around. "The filth of Saruman is washing away." He explained, oblivious to the atmosphere between the people, "Trees will come back to live here. Young trees. Wild trees." He paused and watched the group. "Saruman is no more, is he? He has been swallowed whole by the void."

"You could put it that way", Boromir muttered.

"The past cannot be changed, no matter how much we wish for it", Treebeard replied, "What matters now is the future. And we Ents will stay here and make sure Isengard has a future."

In the entire hubbub, they have lost sight of Pippin though. The youngest Hobbit was just wading through the water near the foot of the tower. He discovered something and picked it up. Much to the present crowd's surprise, it was the black orb Saruman had dropped.

"Bless my Bark!" Treebeard exclaimed shocked.

"Peregrine Took!" Gandalf ordered, forgetting about Alex for the moment "I'll take that, my lad! Quickly now." Pippin handed the orb over reluctantly, and the Wizard quickly covered the thing up. He glanced at the Hobbit, who shuffled his feet in the water awkwardly.

"You should hand this over to me", Alex spoke up, "Least we want to attract more trouble."

"It will be safe with me", Gandalf explained.

"It won't. Just let me take it", the virus urged.

The Wizard glared darkly at him. "The Palantír will be safe with me, for I do not trust you to misuse its powers to challenge Sauron."

Alex backed down with a frown. "Fine, if that's how you want to play it. Just that you know: It will end badly."

"It won't", Gandalf bit back.

Théoden sighed, shaking his head. "There isn't much left to be done here. So let us return to the Golden Halls. And let us remember our fallen brothers."

* * *

"Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country." Théoden raised his cup, addressing the men who stood and sat in the Hall. The King had a dark expression on his face. "Hail the victorious dead!"

"Hail!"

Though the victory over Isengard was a bitter one, the courage of the men had prevented a larger bloodshed. And the Rohirrim were celebrating their victory with much enthusiasm.

Most of the present men were the soldiers of Edoras, the elite Rohan warriors, since most of the additional defenders had already left in the early hours to rejoin their families. Aragorn couldn't blame them, for they were simple peasants who were drawn against their will into battle.  
Haldir and his men had also left. They had taken their dead brethren with them to lay them to rest in Lothlórien, though Haldir had promised to return to aid them.

Aragorn was watching the crowd, only listening with half an ear to the rules of the drinking game Èomer was suggesting to Gimli and Legolas. Merry and Pippin were dancing on the table, much to the amusement of the present crowd, for they had never seen Hobbits before. Gandalf was sitting in a corner and was content with watching.

Boromir stood next to the Ranger when Èowyn approached and handed Aragorn a golden goblet to drink from. It was clear that she believed she was in love with him, but Aragorn knew better. She saw him as somebody he clearly wasn't, and he was already with Arwen.

Arwen...during the last days he had dreamed more often of her. He couldn't say whether it was a good or a bad sign.

"Did you hear what I said?" Boromir asked next to him.

"Huh?" Aragorn turned, eyeing his fellow Man with a frown.

The Gondorian sighed. "I said that tomorrow I shall leave for Minas Tirith. I was gone too long and my heart yearns to see my city again."

The Ranger arched a brow. "Then you should enjoy this feast. It is your last meal with your companions."

"We should keep an eye on Pippin first" The two jumped slightly as Alex materialized out of nowhere next to them. "He's been watching Gandalf the whole evening already. I fear he might do something foolish."

"Foolish in how far?" Boromir asked.

"Foolish as in 'try to nab the Palantír'. You've seen the way he was eyeing it in Isengard."

"Could you glean any more of Saruman's mind?" Aragorn questioned. He winced internally though at the image his mind conjured. After all, the man next to them had killed and eaten one of the Maiar.

"Not so much", Alex admitted. "As I said before, he knew nearly nothing of Sauron's plans and he had far too many memories for me to review within such a short amount of time. I need some peace to finish doing that. I tried poking around his abilities though."

"And?"

"Good news for you, I can't use spells. Guess it has something to do with having a real soul." He paused, glancing at Boromir as he dropped that particular string of conversation completely. "Say, I could I come with you? I have a bad feeling about Minas Tirith."

"So you fear for her safety as well?"

"If I was a general, I would attack there next. Gondor has pretty much the largest army and is damn close to Mordor, so it is a viable threat to Sauron", Alex assumed.

"This is what I fear too", Boromir agreed. "I'm glad that you'll come with me. I would love to have you meet my father. I am sure he would be grateful to meet the man who saved my life."

"I'm not going there to shake hands and get pats on the back, Boromir. I'll just tag along to make sure that Mordor doesn't manage to screw you over."

The three fell silent and watched the crowd celebrating. Some time later, Èomer walked up to them.

"Would you kindly help me with bringing your Dwarven friend to the side? I think he had enough." The Rohirrim asked, jabbing his thumb towards Gimli, who lay under the table with a few empty mugs around him. Legolas stood with a smug expression nearby, having a similar amount of empty mugs stacked neatly in front of him.

Aragorn groaned. "I told him that Elves can hold their alcohol better than most folks. But he didn't want to listen."


	20. Minas Tirith

Minas Tirith

It was in the dead of the night, but Aragorn did not feel tired as he slowly walked through the Golden Halls. By all means, he should curl up somewhere in the building and try to catch up on some much-needed sleep, but he didn't feel tired. Or maybe he did, but he was always having dreams of Arwen dying lately, and that worried him. He didn't want to waste time sleeping, knowing that the enemy was moving towards them.

He grabbed his pipe from his bag and went out so he could take pleasure in smoking without disturbing any of the other present sleepers.

The celebration was over and the tables, chairs and mead barrels required for the feast had been removed from the halls, allowing the men to rest here. Most of the warriors had returned to their own homes or to those of their friends to sleep there, though many of their allies were still present. Gimli was snoring loudly from the corner he was settled in, sleeping off the effect of the mead. Gandalf was resting with the back against the wall, though his eyes were open- he slept as Elves usually sleep.  
Èomer was lying on his stomach with his pillow folded under his head and his golden hair fanned out over his head. Several of his soldiers, Gamling and Háma included, were nearby, all in varying states of unconsciousness. Merry was curled up against his cousin, though Pippin was stirring in his sleep, tossing around. The Ranger eyed him for a moment and then left the room. He decided to not pay him further attention. What was the worst that could happen?

Aragorn moved along the hallway, past he women's quarters. Here he stopped when he caught a glimpse of Èowyn, who had kicked off most of her blankets and was now shivering from the cold. Aragorn moved over to her and gently relocated the blankets.

"What time is it?" the woman mumbled half-asleep.

"Not yet dawn", the Ranger told her. He was about the leave, when her fingers curled around his hand, tugging lightly.

"I dreamed I saw a great wave, climbing over green land and above the hills", she told him sleepily. "I stood upon the brink. It was utterly dark in the abyss before me. A light shone behind me, but I could not turn. I could only stand there, waiting."

She had a nightmare, Aragorn concluded. "Night changes many thoughts", he told her soothingly and she did slip back into sleep. "Sleep, Èowyn. Sleep...while you can."

She was fast asleep already and Aragorn wondered if she would remember anything by tomorrow. Maybe she would put their small conversation on the nightmares she was having. Aragorn silently left the room and snuck outside, walking to the balcony to meet Legolas there.

"The stars are veiled", the Elf stated without looking at him. He was watching the Horizon. "Something stirs in the East. A sleepless malice. The Eye of the enemy is moving."

The Ranger nodded gloomily, his pipe more or less forgotten in his hand.

"He's gonna act soon." Aragorn arched his brow and craned his neck to see Alex perched on the roof over them. "He will strike where it will hurt most", the plague declared, "So Minas Tirith is going to be up to her neck in Orcs soon."

"Are you certain?" The Ranger asked.

"That's what I would do if I was an army general who just lost one of his allies. Hurt those that dared to do that, and hurt them bad." He forces a lop-sided smirk. "Also, I finished browsing through Saruman's memories, so I can say with high accuracy that Minas Tirith will fall next" He paused and muttered under his breath "I guess we should count our lucky stars that Sauron didn't invent a nuclear warhead yet"  
Aragorn arched his eyebrows and was about to ask him what he meant, when suddenly Legolas flinched and turned with wide eyes to the Ranger. "He's here", he whispered.

A high-pitched scream pierced the night, making all three whirl around.

"Pippin!" Aragorn hissed and was already moving the next second. Legolas wasted no time to run after him and Alex quickly leapt off the roof and followed close-by. The balcony now had an impact crater in it, but they didn't pay any attention to it. There were more pressing matters now.  
The three dashed back inside the Halls, where the other soldiers scrambled swearing to their feet, looking for their weapons. All of them froze when they witnessed the youngest Hobbit writhing on the ground, the Palantír clutched tightly in his hands. The stone itself appeared to be burning, and it was no question just _who_ it was it showed.

Sauron had his eye on the Hobbit.

Aragorn nearly lunged at the Hobbit, but the plague was faster. Without effort he wrested the orb from Pippin's hands, snarling enraged at the fiery eye. His arms shivered with countless tendrils that slipped over the Palantír and covered it completely. Aragorn could still hear Sauron's enraged hisses, but as soon as the last inch of the orb was covered, the eye fell silent.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf seethed, running over to where the Hobbit writhed on the floor.

The Wizard's scowl quickly turned into a worried frown as he realized the state the Hobbit was in. He was half-curled up and was shaking madly. "Look at me."

"Gandalf", Pippin whispered, "Forgive me."

"Look at me", the Wizard ordered, ignoring crowd that scrambled towards them, "What did you see?"

"A tree...there was a white tree in a courtyard of stone...it was dead. The city was burning."

"Minas Tirith?" Gandalf's voice became worried. "Is that what you saw?"

"I saw him", Pippin whimpered, not paying attention to the Wizard's questions, "I could hear his voice inside my head!"

"What did you tell him? Speak!"

"He asked my name. I didn't answer", Pippin wailed, "He hurt me!"

"What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?" Gandalf wanted to know.

"He didn't tell him anything", Alex snarled. He was still holding the covered shape of the Palantír. "Sauron doesn't know anything about Frodo or the Ring. Pippin hasn't said a single word."

"Good", Gandalf huffed out, moving Pippin to Èowyn. He turned a rueful gaze to the virus. "It seems you were right for not wanting me to hold on to the Palantír. I'm sorry it had to come to this. Now Sauron knows who we are."

"Then remove it", Boromir growled, motioning towards the orb. "That Sauron managed to glance only once at us is already once too much."

"We shouldn't destroy it, though", Aragorn cut in, "Just hide it from plain view."

Alex nodded in understanding. "It would be best to keep it intact for now. You know, a window works both ways." He held the orb at arm's length first, before pressing it against his chest. His clothes and flesh peeled away with a sickening squelch (making the Rohirrim turn wonderfully green) and tentacles snapped outwards, grabbing and dragging the covered Palantír inside the hooded man's chest.

"But we are strangely fortunate", Gandalf claimed. "Pippin saw a glimpse of the enemies' plan: Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith next." He frowned at the Hobbit who was tended to by Èowyn and Merry. "His defeat at Helm's Deep showed him one thing: He knows the heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as week as he supposed. There is courage still, strength enough perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the people of Middle Earth to unite under a banner", Gandalf finished darkly. "He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return to the throne of Man."

"That means if the beacons of Gondor are lit", Boromir concluded, "Rohan must be ready for war."

Théoden settled his eyes on the Gondorian with a frown. "Tell me...Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?"

Alex scoffed loudly, glaring at Théoden. "Oh, I dunno, maybe because they are the last line of defence? Look at it that way: When Gondor falls, then what will stop Sauron from stomping Rohan into a stain on the ground? Whether you like it or not, you need to be ready. And Minas Tirith has to know about this."

"I'll go", Aragorn claimed.

"Oh no. You won't", Alex bit back. " _You_ are needed elsewhere, Aragorn."

"They must be warned!" The Ranger snapped.

"And they _will_ be", the virus replied. "But Sauron has Corsairs on his payroll."

"Corsairs?"

"Pirates, if you want it that way." Alex pointed at the Ranger. " _You_ go along the river and stop these ships and _I_ go to Minas Tirith to warn them there." He paused and his face turned thoughtful. "And I guess there are more Orcs around the city than there are Corsairs over with you. I rather go where quantities of food are."

"Things are now in motion that cannot be undone", Gandalf added. "Alex and I will head for Minas Tirith." He paused, eyeing the Hobbits. "And we won't be going alone."

* * *

The sun began peeking over the horizon and the terrors of the night had passed. Alex cursed inwardly, marching along the city of Edoras while following Gandalf, Boromir and the Hobbits. The Palantír sat unpleasantly inside his Biomass and he had to fight every single urge he had to prevent himself from expelling it just like any other foreign object. His system just didn't realize that it would be a rather stupid idea to throw it back up for anybody to find. But leaving it in the open was much too dangerous.

"Of all the inquisitive Hobbits, Peregrin Took, are you the worst one!" Gandalf grumbled, leading them in haste towards the stables. "Hurry!"

"Where are we going?" Pippin asked confused. Alex wondered whether the kid really was so naive or whether he just didn't understood what was going on.

Kind of like he when he woke up in that morgue, so he couldn't bring himself to be angry with him.

"Why did you have to look?" Merry seethed. "Why do you always have to look?"

Yup. Just like him. Only that Pippin looked into a sort of Magic Eight Ball and now had the Dark Lord on his ass while Alex doomed Manhattan by freeing Elizabeth Greene.

"I don't know!" The younger Hobbit whimpered, "I can't help it!"

"You never can!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I won't do it again!"

"Don't you understand?!" Merry snapped, grabbing his cousin's shoulders. "The enemy thinks _you_ have the Ring! He's going to be looking for _you_ Pip. They have to get you out of here!" Alex grimaced. This was almost exactly like him back in Manhattan. He did one thing wrong and suddenly had Blackwatch and the Infected on his ass. Pippin did one thing wrong and now had to be taken to Minas Tirith, which was currently at war.

Alex also knew how horrible Merry was feeling. Merry and Pippin- they went together like peanut butter and jelly (he actually never ate it and couldn't imagine what it tasted like, but he did hear that phrase), like Alex and Dana. And now it was necessary for one to be separated from the other. The virus could almost _taste_ the pain it caused for Merry to leave his younger cousin alone. But it was the best for him.  
Boromir knelt down next to Merry. "I will take good care of him. You have my word. No harm will befall Pippin." He grinned. "I will feed anybody who comes too close to him personally to Alex."

The virus frowned at the Gondorian, but his brain almost immediately realized what he was doing. He tried to cheer up the Hobbit.

Might as well play along.

"Oh hey", the virus protested, though only half-heartedly. "Just because I eat people doesn't mean you can use me as a garbage disposal." He crossed his arms and glared at the Gondorian. "At least make up a good cover story."

Merry chuckled and Boromir smirked, giving a thumbs-up to his companion. Their job here was done and Merry wouldn't be too broken up about things that couldn't be changed now. Boromir then hoisted Pippin on Shadowfax' back, for Gandalf to keep him there.

"How far is Minas Tirith?" Alex wanted to know as Boromir swung himself atop Hasufel.

"Three days ride", the Wizard explained, "As the Nazgûl flies. And we better hope we don't have one of those on our tail." He leaned a bit to the front, commanding his horse "Run, Shadowfax. Show us the meaning of haste!"

Shadowfax barrelled out of the stables, followed closely by Hasufel and Alex.

As they pulled away, the virus could still hear Merry's and Aragorn's voice, but soon they were lost in the rushing of the wind and the impacts of his feet on the ground.

* * *

Three days and two nights later and they finally reached the city of Minas Tirith. Neither Shadowfax nor Hasufel had allowed themselves more rest than a few hours per night, just as their riders did. Alex assumed that maybe they felt their rider's fear. Or maybe they just didn't want to be outrun by some creepy-looking man-eating guy. Shadowfax possibly was running because of the latter. Alex swore that this horse was judging him with every step.

Now, with dawn, they stood atop a small ledge and saw Minas Tirith in the distance, across the fields of Pelennor. The city was built into a huge mountain and was layered into different levels, with five circular walls surrounding each level and the king's palace on the sixth level at the very top. A massive cliff jutted out from the sixth level and separated the city in half. All of Minas Tirith was white, like a sparkling massive wedding cake.

Alex' inhaled once as his brain estimated the height of each level, the distance between the walls and the overall size of the City. Minas Tirith was small, but it was the closest to Manhattan that he's seen in _months_. He was barely holding himself back to not just run there and start jumping around the rooftops just for the heck of it. It had been _so long_ since he could parkour through a city. Or anywhere, really. Most of the trip had been wide open plains with a few cliffs in between.

His legs were itching unpleasantly as they finally entered through the gate. Many of the guards recognized Boromir instantly and gave way for the two steeds and the hooded man to dash through.

Alex managed to _not_ run up some walls and just take the roof route, although it nearly physically hurt every fibre of his being. He just wanted to move as freely as he always did in Manhattan, but he denied it himself. For now, he was memorizing the streets, the most striking buildings and certain smells so he could create a city map inside his head.

The main street ran in serpentines upwards, yet it was still as narrow as a side street of Manhattan. Alex could see many stairs running away from the main street and throughout the entire city. Once all of this was said and done, he would check out the city more to his likes. He already promised this to himself.

They soon emerged at the sixth level, where they stopped in a large courtyard and dismounted. It was the upper part of the rock projection Alex'd seen before. They had to pass several tunnels through the cliff to reach the top, actually.

The entire area was large enough to fit a few hundred people, maybe even a thousand.

' _A good place for some celebration'_ , Alex thought, _'Except that they need some guardrails. When people fall off, they most likely wouldn't survive the drop.'_

In the centre of the place was some green grass and in the middle of it was a white, but dead, tree.

"It's the tree! The tree, Gandalf!" Pippin called out.

"Yes", the Wizard explained, "The White Tree of Gondor, the tree of the King." He exhaled once and eyed Boromir. "Lord Denethor however is _not_ the king. He is a steward only, a caretaker of the throne."

"But he will be most pleased to meet you", Boromir beamed at them. "Come, my friends. Let us meet Denethor, my father. Together we can work something out."

"Right. You do know how men in power tick, right?" Alex deadpanned.

* * *

The guards let them pass through to the throne room with no great trouble. Actually, they were completely overjoyed to see Boromir march towards them and they were more than happy to tend to the newcomers. Alex had removed his hood as they entered, a habit he picked up to prevent Aragorn from tugging it off every time they went to talk to Théoden.

The throne room itself was a large marvellous hall with marble floor and mighty black and white columns supporting the roof. The throne was a large white thing with a tall backrest, and next to it was a smaller throne hewn from black marble.

An old, sour-looking man sat on that throne.

Denethor, father to Boromir.

He lifted his face with a deep scowl, glaring at the newcomers. His face lit up as he noticed Boromir and he was off his throne rather fast.

"Boromir!" He called out, walking towards them with his arms spread out, "It is too long since I've seen you, my son!"

"I'm glad to be back, father", Boromir explained, embracing the older man. After a moment, he pulled away, motioning towards his companions. "Those are my companions", he explained. "Gandalf the White."

"I know who he is", Denethor bit out, glaring at the man. "The Wizard. Bad news follow him wherever he goes."

Boromir furrowed his brows at his father, then pointed at Pippin. "Peregrine Took, a Hobbit and good friend to us."

"A Halfling? I believed your kin was a myth."

Boromir smiled and moved to Alex, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And Alex Mercer, whom I owe my life to."

Denethor lifted his head, eyeing the hooded man. Alex wasn't a particularly nice-looking guy, even with the hood off, and he knew it.

"Did he?" the steward asked.

"He did", Boromir claimed. "He swooped in to protect me from a horde of Uruk-Hai I fought to protect Peregrine and his cousin."

Denethor still glared, but he was a bit friendlier than before, at least Alex thought so. "Then I thank you for protecting my dear son."

"Yeah, no problem there", Alex shrugged. "He is a worthy ally."

Denethor nodded and sat down on his throne. "As overjoyed as I am to see my beloved son again, why have all of you accompanied him?"

Gandalf stepped to the front. "Hail, Denethor, son of Ecthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor. We come with tidings of dark hours...and with counsel."

' _Way to start a talk, Gandalf.'_

"What news do you bring?"

"War is coming", the Wizard explained darkly and straight to the point, "The enemy is on your doorstep. Where are Gondor's armies?" He nodded at the steward. "You still have friends, though. You're not alone in this fight. Send word to Théoden. Light the beacon."

' _No talks, no little "How are you?" Gandalf, I am disappointed of your lack of social skills.'_ Alex winced at the irony. He thought about Gandalf's lack of social norm when _he_ was the one whose social interactions consisted of ripping people to shreds and eating them.

Denethor scoffed, eyes narrowing on the Wizard. "You think you are wise, Mithrandir, yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know. With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor. And with your right you seek to supplant me!" His voice lowered to a hiss. "I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan. Oh, yes. Words have reached my ears of this _Aragorn_ , son of Arathorn, and I tell you now: I will _not_ bow to this Ranger from the north, last of a ragged house long bereft of lordship!"

"Whoa. Wait a moment there", Alex said, stepping to the front with a frown. "Nobody said anything about you being a shield or trying to replace you. We just came here to warn you."

Denethor's head snapped towards him, eyes tightening. "What do you know about this, being a mere Ranger?"

" _Mere Ranger_? Listen, this isn't about me or Gandalf or Aragorn", the virus snapped. He exhaled once, then continued with a lowered voice. "Look, I don't know how much you think you know, but it you don't seem to get it. There are _armies_ coming to Gondor. _Giant_ armies seeking to destroy your people. There is no way in Hell that they will leave Minas Tirith alone. Denethor, your people are _going to be killed_. You have to do something!"

"You do not have any saying in my house, Ranger!" Denethor snapped at the virus. "The whole of Gondor is mine to rule! And none others'!"

"Father!" Boromir threw in, "Think about what you are saying! Gondor is in danger!"

"So my own son is against me as well?" He turned to Gandalf with a deep scowl. "That is your work, isn't it? You turned my son against me!"

Alex snarled at the steward, but Gandalf held him back, glaring at the steward. "Then there is nothing left for us to do", he declared. "Come."

The group turned and marched right out, ignoring the yelling old man on the black throne.

* * *

"What did I say about men of power?" The virus asked rhetorically.

"All has turned to vain ambition!" Gandalf ranted angrily as they stormed along the courtyard. "A thousand years this city has stood. Now, at the whim of a madman it will fall! The White Tree, the tree of the king will never bloom again."

"Because it is pretty much dead", Alex threw in.

"Then why are they still guarding it?" Pippin asked, eyeing the men that stood around on the courtyard and tried to look important.

"They guard it because they have hope", Gandalf explained with a scowl. "A faint and fading hope that one day it will flower. A King will come and this city will be as it once was, before it fell into decay." He glared back at the palace and continued to rant. "The old wisdoms born out of the West are forsaken. Kings made tombs more splendid than the houses of the living and counted the old names of their descendants dearer than those of their sons!" He scoffed. "Childless lords sat in aged halls musing about heraldry, or in high cold towers asking questions about the stars. And so the people of Gondor fell into ruin. The line of Kings failed. The White Tree withered. The rule of Gondor has been given over to lesser men."

"This is how people are. Always happy to live in the past rather than the own present", Alex grumbled, stalking over to the cliff and eyeing the dark sky in the East. He had a perfect view of the volcano there. "Mordor", he growled.

"Yes", Gandalf nodded, "There it lies. This city has dwelt ever since in the sight of its shadow."

"A storm is coming", Boromir pointed out, motioning towards the black clouds overhead.

Gandalf shook his head. "This is not the weather of the world. This is the device of Sauron's making. A broil of fumes he sends ahead of his host. The Orcs of Mordor have no love of daylight. So he covers the face of the sun to ease their passage along the road to war. When the shadow of Mordor reaches this city, it will begin."

"So only what? A week at most?" Alex asked. "Before we have the same thing we had in Helm's Deep, only at a larger scale?" He turned to his companions. "We have to build strong defences. We need anybody who can fight. Sauron cannot win."

"What for?" Boromir asked resigned. "My father has denied us any help. We can only wait for the Orcs to get in here."

"Really?" The Blacklight Virus wondered. "Because what I've seen here so far is that the men are doted on _you_ , Boromir. Not Denethor. _You_ are the one they'll follow to battle, not him."

The Gondorian frowned. "But if they act against my father's order, he will banish them. At best."

"Banish them?" Alex scoffed. "All of them? Not even he would be that stupid. Besides, who would expel these guys if everybody is on your side?"

"You say...I am supposed to rile them against my father?"

"Not against your dad. Against his bullshit decisions. Also, he can't be angry at you or them if everything works out, right?"

Boromir furrowed his brows. "This is...actually a good plan", he admitted, "Though we have to find my brother to get his support. Any other ideas?"

"Not at the moment. But give me a night to think and check the defensive side of this place."

"Well..." Pippin began, "Minas Tirith. Very impressive. So where are we off to next?"

"Oh, it's too late for that, Peregrin", Gandalf mumbled, "There's no leaving this city. Help must come to us",


	21. Osgiliath

Osgiliath

Boromir was giving orders to one of his men to prepare a room for his three companions to stay in as long they were in Minas Tirith. He still had hopes that Denethor would come back to his senses, but he also couldn't help but see the logic behind Alex' suggestion to simply ignore the steward's orders and do what had to be done, consequences be damned.

Speaking of which...Boromir eyed the plague in the shape of a man who stood at the edge of the courtyard and glanced down.

The man slowly turned towards Boromir. "Sorry in advance, Boromir"

"What for?"

"Putting holes in your city."

He hurled himself off the cliff. Boromir was at the jump to try to catch him, though he did remember just in time that Alex was heavier than fifty Orcs and probably wouldn't die from the impact.

And to proof his point, he heard the hooded man utter laughter from beneath them. Alex had snapped his legs and arms backwards, trailing red mist after him as he... _soared_ through the air.

Boromir clapped his palm over his face with a groan. "Of _course_ he can fly!"

Below the plateau, Alex had heard the Gondorian. His enhanced senses were easily able to pick up spoken language over a great distance.

' _Fly? No, that's not active flying.'_ Alex thought, feeling the wind rush past him. _'I'm too heavy to fly, but at least I can glide.'_ Alex coiled his body and expelled some Biomass, changing trajectory to keep soaring near the cliff. His gliding ability was great and even when he was heavier than a tank, he could still stay airborne for some time. He wasn't exactly sure how he did it, since logic demanded that he'd drop like a rock the moment he leapt off his perch. He certainly didn't weigh any less when he did this, though the red mist indicated that he did lose some Biomass, but it was a negligible amount. He concentrated, feeling his flesh ripple through the wind that whipped past him.

For active flying, he'd need a different approach. Since he couldn't do it Superman-Style and he didn't possess telekinetic abilities, he had to do that the old-fashioned way.  
With wings.

Actually...Alex shifted his body and turned towards the cliff, hitting it and digging his fingers inside to stay where he was. He thought about this. He had eaten a bird and he knew how birds work. They were light, had large wings and strong muscles to allow them flight. _He_ was pretty heavy, but planes are heavy too. And they can fly.

The easiest solution was mostly the best one, Alex decided, and that would be to simply shift into something large for active flying.

Voices beneath him drew him out of his thoughts. He lowered his head, eyeing the people beneath. A crowd had appeared down there and stared at him. Alex frowned back.  
Right. He forgot. The humans here weren't as oblivious as those in Manhattan.

Oh well. Let's give them something to look at.

He turned towards the cliff, digging his other hand inside and bringing his feet against the wall. In the very moment he removed his hands, he backflipped off it to get to the lower levels. The crowd screeched in shock, but Alex only chuckled. He expelled some more Biomass and changed trajectory once more, so he hit a side street a level above them in a low roll and started running. The stone still cracked beneath his force, but Alex didn't care.

He turned sharply, leaping off the floor and jumped right over the houses to reach the next level, though before he hit the ground he kicked the air, so he headed back towards the cliff where he immediately started running up and out of the people's line of vision. He jumped onto the roof of another house on the other side of the rock projection, marvelling at the shocked squeaks of the inhabitants. The buildings were much more resistant than those in Manhattan, so he barely left traces on them and he did really love the civilian's reactions to the sudden _thuds_ that caused the walls of their homes to shudder. Not to mention that it was still day, so they could see him clearly.

He inhaled once and closed his eyes as he leapt freely through the air, enjoying the feeling and the people's startled gasps. Here, nothing could challenge him and nobody could stop him.

He shouldn't lose sight of his projects, though.

With another powerful burst he circled back to the upper half of the rocky projection and clamped down there once more, eyeing the city beneath.

He had to find out how to protect it good enough so the civilians would be left unharmed.

Alex' eyes narrowed. The lowest level was mainly of military usage with armouries and stables and barracks, while the second level housed most of the industry-like shops and work places like masons and blacksmiths.

Should the Orcs managed to break through the gate, then it was Alex' job to prevent them from entering the third level. Buildings could be rebuild, but people can't be revived. It was necessary to keep the enemy away from the civilians.

The virus let go of the cliff to drop down. He did slow down his descent somewhat, but he still hit the upper part of the outer wall with the force of a small car. He did send a bunch of guards stumbling off their feet and he caused a deep imprint on the solid stone. As he slowly straightened his back and glanced around, he noticed that the men had their swords drawn and stood around him, unsure how to handle the guy who just backflipped and jumped through nearly the entire city as if gravity didn't exist.

Well, Alex knew better. To him, gravity was the bitch he could fuck up as he pleased while simultaneously kicking the remaining physics into their balls and hang them on them highest flag pole from their underwear.

But now a building had caught his interest. It was a pretty large, two-story flat object that was buried into the cliffs. It was also close to the gates while still far away enough to allow for an easy defence.

He turned his eyes on the closest guard, pointing at the building. "What's this thing?" The man jumped nearly out of his skin, but followed the outstretched finger. Years of training had hardened him far enough that he didn't adopt a 'stab first, ask later' mentality. He blinked at the object. "That's...that's a weapon's depot, sir."

"Is it large?"

The guard furrowed his brows and watched the hooded man warily.

"It has a large storage room at the back, dug into the cliff. The other rooms are smaller and filled with armaments, if that is what you wanted to know."

"Really", the virus drawled out. He paused for a moment, thinking about this new information. It could be useful, though he wasn't exactly sure in how far it would benefit him.

Alex turned to look at the plains. There was still something that he needed to do.

"Where is Faramir?" The virus asked the soldier.

"Lord Faramir?"

"Boromir's brother. I was told he's around here somewhere. I need to talk to him."

"Lord Faramir has left for Osgiliath, sir", the man explained, "His father sent him to make it safe."

"And thus sent him to his death", Alex scoffed. He placed a boot on the crenel of the battlements, pausing to speak to the guard. "If Boromir comes by and asks for Alex Mercer, tell him I'm doing some scouting", the sentient virus told the man. Without waiting for a reply, he vaulted over the battlements and hit the plains in a roll.  
He was in a dead sprint the next moment.

* * *

Despite his father believing he was under a spell of Gandalf, Boromir had managed to talk him into taking Pippin into his service. Denethor had eventually given in and made the Hobbit a Guard of the Citadel, so he would have something to do. Pippin had been given armour and a sword, which he removed from its sheath once the three had moved into their accommodations for the night.

Gandalf was sitting on the balcony, smoking and watching the bright fires of Mount Doom. Boromir was leaned against a pillar, also smoking. His face didn't betray any emotions, but he was deeply worried.

"So I imagine this is just a ceremonial position", the Hobbit stated as he put the sword back down. "They don't actually expect me to do any fighting...do they?"

Boromir chuckled. "You're in the service of the Steward now. You're going to have to do as you are told, Pippin."

The Hobbit flinched and stared at the Gondorian. Boromir only shrugged. "Don't look at me like that. It was the only way to have you stay here with us. Also, you can move much more freely inside the keep when you are in the service of my father." He eyed the Halfling. "And you agreed to this whole thing, didn't you?"

The colour drew a bit out of Pippin's face as the realization of what he's done set in. He was now one of the Guardians. And he had to fight to the last breath if they told him to. Not very good prospects for a Hobbit.

Gandalf was mumbling something under his breath until he started to cough harshly. "Guardian of the Citadel!" He bit out between a few raspy chokes, "Ridiculous Hobbit!"

Said Hobbit handed him a mug of water and the Wizard accepted it gratefully. With the coughing fit gone, Pippin turned back and leaned on the banister to look towards Mordor.

"There are no more stars." He noticed as he watched the dark clouds and the fiery eruption of Mount Doom. "Is it time?"

"Yes", Gandalf declared darkly.

Pippin frowned. "It is so quiet."

"It's the deep breathe before the plunge."

"I don't want to be in battle", Pippin admitted, "But waiting on the edge of one you can't escape is even worse." He paused, turning sad eyes to the Wizard. "Is there any hope, Gandalf? For Frodo and Sam?"

"There never was much hope", Gandalf explained. "Just a fool's hope. Our enemy is ready, his full strength gathers. Not only Orcs, but Men as well. Legions of Haradrim from the South, mercenaries from the coast...all will answer Mordor's call."

Boromir walked up to stand next to both of them. "This will be the end of Gondor as we know it", he declared. "Here the hammer stroke will fall the hardest. If the river is taken, if the garrison of Osgiliath falls, the last defence of this city will be gone."

"But we have the White Wizard", Pippin exclaimed hopefully. "And Alex! That has to count for something, right?"

"Sauron has yet to reveal his deadliest Servant", Gandalf announced. "The one who would lead Mordor's armies in war. The one they say no living man can kill: The Witch-King of Angmar." He turned to the Hobbit. "You know him. He attacked you on the Weathertop. He is the Lord of the Nazgûl, the greatest of the Nine. Minas Morgul is his lair." The Wizard paused, eyeing the plains. "For his nature as a spirit, neither living nor dead, I have no hopes for the Black Light to be able to devour him like it would devour an opponent of flesh and blood. The Nazgûl have gotten stronger and their poison runs deep. Even Alex can not hope to win this war on his own."

"That's why he needs us just as we need him", Boromir claimed. "He is strong, but not indestructible. This war can only be won if all of us work together. And for this, we need Rohan on our side." He paused and smirked at Pippin. "And tomorrow, Pippin, will you prove your courage to us by calling for King Théoden against my father's wish."

"The board is set", Gandalf finished. "The pieces are moving."

* * *

It was early the next morning when Gandalf and Pippin moved along the courtyard of Minas Tirith. Boromir had left earlier to be with his father and try to talk some sense into him.

"Peregrine Took, my lad", The Wizard begun, "There is a task to be done. Another opportunity for the Shire-Folk to prove their great worth." He put his hand on the Hobbit's shoulder. "You must not fail me."

Pippin nodded with determination. This was his chance to straighten out every mistake he's done so far. This was his moment to shine. And he was determined to prove to Gandalf that he wasn't the fool he was always seen as.

He scampered off, moving in the shadows to remain unseen.

A Hobbit always excelled at sneaking, and Pippin had more than enough experience from stealing from old Farmer Maggot.

Time to put these skills to a real purpose other than stealing vegetables.

Unseen, he managed to slink towards the large stack of wood that was guarded by a soldier and protected from the elements by a small building. Atop the wood was a lamp, and it was filled with oil. Just what Pippin needed.

With the security of a cat, he carefully climbed along beneath the platform to pull himself up just behind the wood stack and away from the guard. He clambered to the top of the pile and began to wrest with the lamp. The guard didn't notice him, even as one of the halters snapped and the lamp spilled its contents all over the wood.

"Yesss!" Pippin exclaimed with a victorious grin. That grin quickly fell off his face when he realized that the stack caught on fire.

"Uh-oh"

He just barely managed to climb off when the entire pile was set ablaze. The guard had realized what was going on by now, but he was helpless in face of the growing inferno.

Gandalf watched with a smile as another fire erupted just a distance away. "Amon Dîn", he smiled. Pippin had done it.

"The beacon! The beacon of Amon Dîn has been lit!" A guard yelled. Chaos broke out around them with the guards running and shouting at each other. They clearly had no idea what to do.

"Hope has been rekindled."

* * *

Alex hadn't taken the direct route to Osgiliath, but rather had done a large half circle around the city to check on the defensive side from a distance. It was early in the dark morning hours when he turned and headed for the city at the river. He had come to the conclusion that he needed to come up with another plan of how to do this, should the siege begin. He was well aware that he could not just do his thing without endangering more of the city. Helm's Deep had shown him that while he was powerful, he was just a single person. When he would start tearing into the enemies' armies at one side of the walls, they would simply push into the city at another side. Maybe they'll even throw as many people on him as possible and thus keep him busy and unable to defend Minas Tirith.

They would need more like him to take down Sauron's troops.

He slowed his steps down as he approached the ruins of Osgiliath.  
More of him...the first time he had gotten an idea like that was when he's seen the storage building. It would be the perfect place to start his own Hive, it was close enough to the battle fields to allow a quick deployment and still far away enough to be protected. He had the knowledge about how to create a Hive, so it would be easy to use the excessive Biomass he'd gathered to transform that building and strike from there.

Alex scowled and quickly banished this idea however. He was already unstable and always teetering on the edge of insanity, Middle Earth didn't need more of him.

When he fought in the ravine at Helm's Deep, his mind had nearly completely shut down as he was slaying Orcs left and right. There wasn't much left that stopped him from just running wild and start spreading the disease just like Elizabeth Greene. If he had so many problems with keeping his instincts in check, then he didn't want to know what happened to any other human being he'll infect. More of his kind was too dangerous for anyone.

But what if there were just drones that only followed his orders? Like Walkers? Like Hunters?

He could protect the people of Minas Tirith.

Alex snapped out of his thoughts as he smelled humans...and Orcs. Many Orcs.

He couldn't dwell on plans for the future, he had to deal with these beasts first.

His Armour encased his body even as he started running. The ground caved in beneath him as he crossed the distance within minutes. His vision bled to infrared as soon as he passed the city limits of the ruined Osgiliath. He could already pick out the several hot bodies of some humans, bright blotches against the dark background, though he could also see a large group of brighter spots moving towards them. The area was much colder around them and they were barely moving, so Alex realized what exactly was going on.

An ambush from the river.

The stones cracked beneath his weight and the Virus hurled his body atop a building to avoid wasting too much time by trying to use the streets. Roofs caved in beneath him, walls shook and his steps created a ghastly staccato of heavy hits. Like distant artillery fire.

Within moments he picked up the voices of the humans.

"What is this?" Somebody hissed.

"It is coming closer...fast", another voice noticed.

"Orcs?" Another asked.

"No. Not Orcs", the second speaker whispered. Alex could clearly feel the panic in his voice, but no matter. He was here to kill some bastards and not to make friends.

He changed course and leapt atop a wall. The humans could now clearly see him, but he could also see the boats approach the shore line.

Somebody let out a hoarse shout and an arrow bounced off his shell a second later. Oh goodie. They're targeting him, but not the guys trying to actually kill them.

The Virus let out a low growl and leapt off the single wall he was on to reach a small watchtower. Originally, he intended on using this as his base of action and pick off the boat from afar with the Whipfist, but the structure must have been weakened already. With an ear-splitting _CRACK_ the tower toppled over, heading straight for the river.

Alex exhaled in annoyance. Well, then he had to think of a different strategy.

At least the falling construction allowed him to cross the distance between the dry land and the boats much easier, since his Armour prevented him from jumping greater ranges. Still, it was going to be _wet_.

The virus leapt off the collapsing building, targeting the closest of the boats. Behind him, he could hear the men shout for they have finally noticed the approaching enemy.  
Alex hit the target with the force of a tank shell, snapping the boat in half and causing the Orcs to shriek in panic. Water splashed up around them and Alex fought down the urge to simply leap out of it again.

The falling tower churned up the river and sent a massive wave crushing into the other boats. Orcs howled enraged and several boats capsized, sending the creatures hurling into the water.

Alex quickly seized the first Orc that sank down besides him, then expelled Biomass to launch himself and his prey out of the dark and cold liquid.

The surface broke away as the virus shot skywards. He curled his body and kicked the air to change his path, so he would reach the remains of the watchtower. Once he hit it, he immediately leapt off again, for the structure simply broke apart further and was thus no good ground. The dry shore was much better. Alex hit the ground with a jarring impact that made the Gondorians stumble to their knees, but he didn't have the time to care. He lifted the wet Orc and jabbed it once with a claw, then hurled it towards the other boats. The creature exploded in a glorious ball of guts, tentacles and blood.

The Soldiers gave a series of gasps and hisses, though they overcame their shock and aimed their weapons at him.

' _Wherever I go people aim sharp and pointy things at me'_ , Alex thought, _'It's almost as if they_ _ **want**_ _to get eaten.'_ He cleared his throat and turned towards the men, who shrank back in fear. "You guys better get out of here", he told them with a certain urge in his voice. The men however just blinked at him, almost as if they couldn't comprehend what was going on. Alex sighed, a sound that came out as a low hiss in his current form. "Listen here", he barked, getting their attention. "This place is a death trap! Get the ever-loving Fuck out of here!"

"How can we trust you?" A young man snapped. Alex narrowed his eyes on him. He did smell of sweat and grime, just like any other man who spends too much time outside, but there was a faint whiff of Boromir.

"You are Faramir, aren't you?" The virus asked. He saw the man hitch his breath and his eyes turned guarded.

"How do you know?"

"Boromir told me", Alex explained. He threw a watchful glance over to the river where the Orcs were busy trying to regroup themselves. "Listen", Alex said, "I'm here because Boromir asked me to make sure you guys get back to him in one piece."

He shifted to the Whipfist and snatched an Orc out of one boat, only to turn it into another Bio-Bomb. He revelled in the gags the men behind him made as they witnessed the gory explosion, but more boats peeled out of the darkness. They were simply too many. Alex growled. They were running out of time.

"Faramir?" One of the soldiers asked, eyes switching between the Stewart's son, the virus and the approaching Orc hordes, "What do we do now?"

"The city is lost", Alex snapped, "You need to retreat!"

"We cannot give Osgiliath up!" Faramir bit out, "It is the last line of defence for Minas Tirith!"

"Bullshit!" The virus seethed. " _You_ are the last line of defence, not some half-rotten carcass of a city! You have to go back to Minas Tirith! Fuck Osgiliath! We can deal with the Orc hordes later!"

Faramir glared at Alex for a good long moment, but eventually gave in. "Tell the men to break cover", he ordered, "We ride to Minas Tirith"

"My Lord! Do you really believe this...creature?"

"I don't believe it, but I see the Orcs that approach us", Faramir stated, "We cannot hold Osgiliath."

A loud screech pierced the darkness and all of the men jerked back startled. Alex ducked low and craned his neck to watch the sky.

"Nazgûl! Take cover!" Faramir shouted. Now the men finally got it. "Pull back! Pull back to Minas Tirith!"

"Finally!" Alex groaned. His body shivered with rage when the Ringwraith shrieked again. With an uproar, he grabbed a piece of a collapsed building and hurled it right at the unseen Nazgûl. The Wraith shrieked again, but the lack of pain in its voice told Alex that he missed, though he did get it to back off. The Orcs had reached the shore by now and had spilled out of their boats, determined to get revenge on the thing that dared to attack them. Alex snarled into their direction, quickly dismembering the few ones that stupidly tried to attack him. The other kept their distance, though they did drive the Men out of the city. The Prototype waited for Faramir and his men to reach their horses before he finally gave up trying to fight the Orcs and followed after them. It wasn't that he _wanted_ to leave behind a potentially hilarious bloodbath, but he knew that the Nazgûl would easily catch up to the soldiers out on the open plain.

He just wondered _where_ the heck they were. They clearly didn't have any horses anymore.

"Hurry!" He snapped, "Just hurry up!"

The Men certainly didn't want to piss off a thing that could make Orcs explode and throw boulders the size of a cart at unseen Nazgûl. So they followed his orders without question.

Just as they broke away from the city, the sun finally came up. Alex followed them close-by, but he did keep an eye on any eventual hunters. His steps shook the ground and kicked up a lot of dirt. Several of the men threw glances at him and their hands twitched with the need to grab a sword and stab the armoured plague.

Alex snorted and fell back a bit to pull his Armour back into his body. Faramir and several other men made a startled gasp when the black spiky shell turned into an array of tentacles for a second, then settled into a normal pale human shape.

"What manners of creature are you?" One of the soldiers yelled.

"The one that has sworn to make sure that you get to Minas Tirith in one piece!" Alex barked.

 _*SCREECH*_

Alex whirled around, stopping for a second as his eyes found three giant winged creatures above them. Nazgûl. And they really had new pets. With wings.

 _Joy._

The Wraith shrieked again and the Virus quickly noted the rise of the blood flow, the heightened distribution of hormones like adrenaline and the hitched breaths in the Gondorian Soldiers. His own Biomass shivered in reaction to the Nazgûl's voices and he realized in one second that the Wraith's screeches caused the fear centre of the brain to run haywire.

Bastards could actually _scare_ people with their voices.

Fine, but Alex didn't need his voice for this. He was all four Apocalyptic Riders in one stylish package. Like _Hell_ he would give in to some guys dressed in bath robes.

He already killed one of them. He could do so again.

He let out a loud roar that shook the air and made the men around him flinch, then leapt off the ground and launched his Whipfist at the nearest of the winged beasts.

He hit home and the creature howled out in pain as the barbed tentacle smashed through its chest and anchored the virus there. The winged beast first pulled the Prototype along, but as soon Alex' acceleration from jumping off the ground was giving way for gravity to work again, the Virus's weight dragged the beast down towards the ground.

It hit the floor a few yards away from the riders in a cacophony of shattering bones. Alex lunged at the creature and slammed his fist deep into its core. His feeding tendrils dug into the warm flesh immediately. The beast bucked up and howled, but it was defenceless against the Blacklight Virus.

The Nazgûl mounted atop the creature shrieked at Alex, but he couldn't do anything as tentacles broke through his mounts' body and tore it apart from the inside, melting it down within moments. The Nazgûl swiped his sword at the tentacles that tried to wrap around him while getting some distance between them. He turned and screeched enraged as Alex' body stopped writhing.

The Prototype snarled back at the wraith and shifted to his Blade. He lunged at the Nazgûl faster than it could react and effortlessly dug his Blade into its head. Alex immediately followed this by plunging his feeding tendrils into the writhing body, hoping to find something to feed upon.

He regretted this decision.

The Black Breath, the Nazgûl's own defensive mechanism, killed off his Biomass faster than he could regenerate it. His Blade shattered into many heavily discoloured pieces, but the way of the inferno continued crawling up his arm. Alex reacted by ripping off his arm and stumbling back, while the Nazgûl collapsed into a heap in front of him. However, whatever the Wraith was made of had already been absorbed into his body. It shot through his system like a wildfire, making the virus howl out in pain as his insides churned and pushed against the dreaded poison. And his body was losing.

He had forgotten what Aragorn told him about the Nazgûl's Black Breath. It killed all those that only dared to _touch_ a Wraith, even through a weapon, unless it could be healed with Athelas. But Aragorn never told him what would happen if one tried to _eat_ a Wraith.

The toxin downright _destroyed_ living Biomass and there wasn't a thing Alex could do against it. Within seconds it had spread through nearly his entire body, rupturing and contaminating any Biomass it came into contact with. And, ironically, it was the Blacklight's dense form that allowed for this extremely fast process. The poison could spread faster because there was more Biomass for it to affect.

Kind of how Viruses work.

Alex felt his body break away, so he forced himself to leap backwards, while rejecting all the affected Biomass from his body. In an instant, he lost more than three quarters of what he had consumed, but it was still better than dieing like the Biomass on the ground. With a pang of horror, Alex watched how his own flesh curled up and withered away.

"Not going to do that again", he hissed. "Ever."

He needed the better of two minutes to fight the immense pain down and keep it at a tolerable level, while also regenerating his body. By now, all affected Biomass had died down completely, allowing him to retrieve the Palantír and his Elven Blade which he dropped.

And then he remembered why exactly he was here. The riders of Gondor hadn't stopped to wait for him when he had the _brilliant_ idea to try to eat a Ringwraith. No, they had continued riding away from the place and the Nazgûl continued to rain havoc on them. Several bodies littered the ground around them already.

Alex swore and stumbled after them, needing a few steps to force his body back under control.

 _Fucking Magic_

Within a few yards he was back to his old shape, though he still felt dizzy.

And pissed. Really pissed.

He needed to rend something living from limb to limb. Preferably those winged assholes.

However, before he could execute his revenge on them, the Nazgûl above him shrieked in horror and a bright light shone on them, so they fled from this place.

It were Gandalf and Boromir who rode out to meet the Rangers, and it was Gandalf who scared the Nazgûl away. Without stopping they accompanied the group back towards Minas Tirith. As soon as the last man passed through the gate, the guards slammed it shut to deter any pursuer.

Alex winced and dropped his body against the stable's walls, taking several deep breaths to will the dizziness away. He was never, ever going to try to eat Ghosts again.

"Mithrandir! Boromir!" Faramir called out in alarm as he more or less jumped off his horse and ran up to his brother and the Wizard, "They broke our defences! They've taken the bridge and the west bank. Battalions of Orcs are crossing the river!"

"It is as Lord Denethor predicted", another man wailed, "Long has he foreseen this doom!"

"Foreseen and done nothing", Gandalf snapped, forcing the man into silence.

Alex exhaled and finally managed to get the world to stop spinning.

"Who is that?" Faramir asked, glaring at him.

"His name is Alex", Boromir explained, "And he saved my life." He frowned at him. "Though you do look horrible. What has happened out there?"

"Ate something I shouldn't have eaten", the Virus replied. "Don't worry about me though. I'll be fine. We have to make a plan of how to continue from here on."

Boromir frowned at his companion, but then noticed Faramir's surprised face when the younger brother saw Pippin on Shadowfax.

"Brother? This is not the first Halfling to cross your path?" Boromir asked.

"No"

"You've seen Frodo and Sam!" Pippin exclaimed happily, jumping off the horse.

"Where?" Gandalf asked surprised, "When?"

"In Ithilien. Not two days ago", the younger brother explained. "They're taking the road to the Morgul Vale."

"And then the pass of Cirith Ungol", the Wizard growled.

"What does that mean?" Pippin wanted to know, "What's wrong?"

"Come, Faramir. You need to tell us everything."

"I will", the young man agreed, "But first I need to speak to my father."

* * *

Denethor was _not_ happy. His face was set in such a deep scowl, it made Cross look positively giddy. And, for comparisons, Cross usually had the type of face that managed to make milk curdle.

"This is how you would serve your city?" Denethor snapped after his youngest son had finished his story. Admitted, the Steward had managed to refrain himself from saying anything while Faramir explained how and when he met Frodo and how he let him be on his way to destroy the Ring, but now the old man let out his anger. Boromir grimaced awkwardly, Pippin shuffled his feet, Gandalf and Alex were glaring. "You would risk its utter ruin?"

"I did what I judged was right", Faramir gave back fearless.

"What you judged to be right?!" Denethor scoffed, "You sent the Ring of Power into Mordor in the hands of a witless Halfling! It should have been brought back to the Citadel to be kept safe! Hidden, dark and deep within the vaults, not to be used. Unless at the uttermost end of need!"

"I would not use the Ring", Faramir bit back. Alex decided that he liked him. He was a great guy and not afraid to speak his mind. "Not if Minas Tirith were falling in ruin and I alone could safe her!"

"I would have", Boromir admitted, "But I learnt that the Ring was evil. I would not have used it ever again. Let it be destroyed in the Fires of Mount Doom. We don't need it."

"How could you?!" Denethor cried out, but suddenly broke down into a violent coughing fit. Alarmed, Faramir stepped towards his father, but the old man just sneered at him. "Leave!" He ordered. The younger brother hesitated first, but then turned and walked outside, accompanied by Boromir, Gandalf, Pippin and Alex.

"What can we do?" Boromir asked as they finally stepped outside and walked towards the cliff. "Osgiliath has been taken by the Orcs. The Nazgûl are back and stronger than ever. And the Rohirrim are still too far away."

"Of the Nazgûl only seven remain, it appears", Gandalf stated. He turned to eye Alex who was leaned against the wall. "Though not even you are capable of fighting an entire army _and_ protect the city at the same time."

"I can't", was the answer. "But I have an idea what I can do for it." Alex scowled deeply. The idea he had before he went to Osgiliath was back. And by now it seemed like the only reasonable plan he had. "Boromir, can you take care that the weapon storage near the gates is cleaned out? I need the place for what I've planned."

"I can give the order, but why do you need it?"

"It has a nice location and I think I'm gonna grow roots there", the Virus replied. "Also, Faramir? Would you tell your men that we are going to have a few guests over soon, so please don't shoot them."

"What are you planning?" Gandalf queried.

"I'll go back to Osgiliath", Alex replied. "The stunt with that Ring Wraith left me a bit low on fuel." He smirked as he pushed off the wall and walked towards the edge. "Also, I require a few test subjects. Live ones, at best."

* * *

 **Achievement Unlocked: Indigestion. I really hope you learnt that you shouldn't just stuff everything into your face.  
**


	22. War is coming

War is coming

 _March 10_ _th_ _  
_

It was dawn. Aragorn couldn't know this, but many miles away from him, Gondorian Rangers fled the city of Osgiliath, chased by Nazgûl.

Lost in deep thoughts about the upcoming events, the Ranger was leaned against a support pillar and watched the rising sun. The light felt warm and gentle on his face and not for the first time he wondered how many more times he could enjoy this before darkness was threatening to swallow them all. He wondered whether Boromir and the others managed to reach Minas Tirith or whether they had an unfortunate accident on the way.

He noticed something flicker in the distance. He frowned. An illusion? Reflection of the sun on snow, perhaps?

He eyed the spot curiously, as it continued to shine and not disappear like a glare usually did. When a second spot of light suddenly sprang to life, the Ranger realized that it was fire.

Mighty beacons, to be precise.

Beacons of war.

His mind needed a moment to ponder that information, and when it did, Aragorn was already running inside the Golden Halls where Théoden and his men stood, discussing maps.

"The Beacons of Minas Tirith!" Aragorn shouted, drawing their attention, "The Beacons are lit!" He stopped, eyes locking with Théoden's. "Gondor calls for aid."

The men fell silent, taking in the news. Nobody moved for a few long moments.  
Aragorn held his breath, and focused solely on the king as he waited for the reaction. Théoden clenched his jaw, determination burning on his expression. "And Rohan shall answer", he declared loudly. He raised his voice. "Muster the Rohirrim!"

Aragorn grinned and the group set out of the building immediately. Háma split off from them and hurried to ring the bell of Edoras. Grimbold started barking orders at several guards and Théoden turned to Èomer. "Assemble the army at Dunharrow", He ordered sternly, "As many men as can be found! You have two days." Èomer nodded and was about to leave when Théoden held him back. The two locked eyes. "On the third", Théoden declared with a resolute expression, "We ride for Gondor! And for war!"

Èomer nodded once more and hurried off towards the stables to get his steed.  
The King grabbed Gamling's attention next. "Make haste across the Riddermark", he ordered. "Summon every able-bodied man to Dunharrow!"

"Yes, my lord", Gamling acknowledged and chased off.

Aragorn allowed himself for a moment to watch the warriors hurry around to gather their weapons, their armour and their steeds. The Ranger was amazed by their high efficiency as he could already spot several men gathering in front of the city. He caught a glimpse of Legolas, who nodded shortly at him with a small smirk. The Elf was ready for whatever was going to come. Aragorn glanced one last time at the men, before he turned to get to the stables to get Brego. The horse was impatiently kicking the ground, burning to carry his master to war.

The Ranger went to calm the horse down and thank him for willing to fight with him, after all, he originally had been set free after his old master fell in battle, and still he returned to be with his new master.  
Aragorn noticed somebody in the corner of his eye and he had to turn to look directly at the newcomer to make sure his vision didn't play a trick on him. Èowyn stood besides him, readying her mare Windfola. "You ride with us?" The Ranger asked surprised.

"Just to the encampments", the shieldmaiden explained with a slight frustration in her tone. "It's tradition for the women of the court to farewell the men."

Aragorn arched his eyebrow at her obvious dislike of having to stay behind and lifted the blankets a bit off the saddle, revealing a sword hidden beneath it. The shieldmaiden clearly had no interest in staying behind.

Èowyn put the blanket back with a venomous glare. "The men have found their captain", she declared, "They will follow you into battle, even to death. You have given them hope."

Aragorn smirked at her determination to follow him as well and leaned over to her, whispering, "Then you should grab a helmet when the time comes. We don't want the men to know that you too would follow me."

Èowyn smiled at him.

Outside, Théoden was overseeing the process of his men and found it to be highly satisfactory. Nearly all of them had finished preparing what was necessary and in a record time, too.

"My King"

Théoden turned to see the Halfling Merry approach him. The Hobbit was frowning, but his eyes burnt with passion. He dropped to one knee and held out his sword in front of him.

"I offer you my service, Théoden King", he declared with all the seriousness that he could muster.

The King was silent for a single moment as his eyes moved slowly over the brave little Hobbit. Bravery like this was rare, especially from a man of a kin that would rather hide and wait for the storm to pass.

He smiled at the bowing Halfling. "And gladly I accept it", he said. "You shall be Meriadoc, esquire of Rohan."

The Hobbit blinked first, then beamed at the King. With a small whoop, he turned and dashed off, probably to find a mount fitting his size.

Gimli glared at the mustering Rohirrim from his perch on Arod's back behind Legolas. "Horsemen, hmph!" He scoffed after a while of watching the men getting ready, "I wish I could muster a legion of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy!"

Legolas grimaced at the image before he turned serious again. "Your kinsmen have no need to ride for war", he explained. "I fear war already marches on their own lands."

"You are always a keg o' good news, aren't you?" The Dwarf grumbled.

"I do whatever I can", the Elf grinned.

"Are you ready?" Aragorn asked, riding up to them. Merry gave a victorious shout when he finally managed to get his pony to move.

"As ready as one can be", Gimli declared.

"Let us end this war", Legolas agreed.

Not even an hour after Aragorn spotted the beacons, the entire army began moving. The ground shook as thousand of hooves thundered across the plains.

Gondor had called for help, and Rohan was going to assist them.

* * *

 _March 10_ _th_ _, Midday_

The Guards of Minas Tirith were busy. Some of the men cleared out the storage building while others began to put up trebuchets and readied projectiles for them to target Orcs with. Faramir was overseeing the men and took great care that they had everything correct.

"We have to pull this off fast!" Alex told Boromir as the two walked past the men to check up on their process. "I assume we only have about three to four days left, not more."

"What are you going to do?" The older brother asked.

"First of, I am going to replenish my Biomass", the virus replied. "I made the mistake to try to eat a Nazgûl, and had to reject about three fourths of my original mass. While it wasn't nearly enough to kill me, it was highly unpleasant."

"I can imagine", Boromir grimaced.

"Good. Like I said, I'll be bringing guests with me. I think you'll recognize them, so please tell your men to stand down if I return."

The Gondorian blinked, realization dawning on him. "Wait...You're going to bring _Orcs_ with you?!"

The hooded man nodded. "I will."

"Are you out of your mind?! We want to protect Minas Tirith from them and you decided to bring some inside the city?!"

"You have to trust me on this", Alex requested. "I know it sounds crazy, but I need them for my experiments."

"This is a bad idea", Boromir argued. "A really, really bad idea."

"If there was another way, I'd do it. But there isn't", the Prototype admitted. "Trust me, I would _never_ endanger the city or her people." He sighed. "I would have chosen Osgiliath as my base of operation, but I'm afraid that Sauron's armies would demolish my efforts before I could get them started and then we have nothing. Minas Tirith will be safe. You have my word."

Boromir frowned at him, thinking for a long moment about it. It was true. He just knew that Alex would never endanger him or anybody else knowingly. But he was going to bring Orcs into Minas Tirith. The very same creatures they tried to keep _out_.

"I will trust you", the Gondorian finally agreed. "My mind tells me that it is a bad idea, but my heart says to trust you. And I will listen to my heart."

Alex eyed him for a long moment. Boromir quickly became uneasy, because his companion wasn't moving at all. Not blinking or even breathing.

"Thank you", the hooded man suddenly muttered. "Thank you for trusting me." Alex turned and abruptly leapt over the walls and out of sight.

* * *

Gothmog was having a good day. His armies had taken over Osgiliath and now Minas Tirith sat in front of them, completely defenceless. Like a wingless bird.

Only a few more days and the Master's dark clouds would cover the city too, allowing his armies to march in.

The Orc commander paused when he heard the beating of giant wings. He didn't even need to turn to know who just arrived. It was his general, Master Sauron's right hand.

The Witch-King of Angmar.

" _ **Send forth all legions"**_ , the Nazgûl ordered, _**"Do not stop the attack until the city is taken. Slay them all."**_ That had been his intentions anyways. He wouldn't leave anybody alive as soon as his men were able to move freely.

"What of the Wizard?"

" _ **I will break him"**_ , the Witch-King declared.

"I have no doubts about this, my Lord." Gothmog bowed deep before he left. He still had matters to attend to. Not that the Nazgûl understood. _He_ didn't have to worry about winning a battle. The Wraith was the most powerful creature besides the Master and wherever he walked, people _died_. But the Orcs weren't as powerful.

Gothmog still had to worry about injuries and death, but he seriously doubted that the weak humans could do anything against his soldiers.

But there was this demon that fought along the humans. The one that blew their cover when they tried to ambush the Rangers in Osgiliath.

It was as tall as a Man, but covered in a dark spiky shell that seemed like it was on fire on several spots. It had sunk one of their boats and caused more to capsize. Gothmog had lost several good warriors through drowning, since their armours pulled them under the floods without them able to flee. It was then when the Orc Leader realized how close he came to dieing, but he didn't. And his desire to kill the demon had only grown since that night.

As the day progressed, Gothmog watched his men gather in front of the ruins of Osgiliath. The darkness was spreading, allowing them a greater range. Their Trolls carried in the trebuchets and siege towers and more were coming in from the Northern Bridge. The pathetic humans had no chance.

The Witch-King had left to return to the Minas Morgul to oversee the armies' weapon depots. Gothmog snorted. The high Lord left them to do the dirty work, of course. He probably never worked once in his life. Or un-life. Whatever.

"A Ranger is approaching"

Gothmog blinked, turning to one of his soldiers.

"Rangers? Give them a warm greeting, boys", he ordered.

"Not Rangers", the maggot snapped. "One. One Ranger."

"One" The Orc Commander frowned at the maggot. "One Human."

"Look for yourself", the other snarled. Gothmog gave in and went to the front of his soldiers, glaring at the single figure that marched straight towards them with no care in the world.

"What is this?" One Orc asked, "A trick? A trap?"

"A defector?" Another Orc suggested. Gothmog snorted. As if they needed even more humans in their ranks. The Southerners were already bad enough, though their beasts were interesting.

But what abilities would a single man have?

"Let's hear him out, boys", the Commander laughed. "Maybe we can have a little fun with him."

The other Orcs laughed loudly and sheathed their weapons, watching the man approach them.

However, the closer he came, the more Gothmog realized that something was off about the human. There was something about him that didn't belong, that wasn't _human_.

From afar, he looked just like any other human maggot. He wasn't even particularly tall or strong, he didn't even wear armour. He had a hood on his head that hid his features from them, but other than that, he looked perfectly normal.

That was until he came close enough for Gothmog to smell him.

And that was the first sign that something was seriously wrong about the guy.

He _reeked_ of death. Like a dead man walking.

' _Could this be the Grave Walker?'_ The Orc thought. He had heard rumours from his brethren about a man who had been slain decades ago, but still haunted the lands of Mordor. But those were rumours at best and nobody he knew had ever seen the Grave Walker.

However, now this man stood there, looking perfectly normal and stinking of death.

And then Gothmog realized that the man wasn't making any sounds.

It wasn't that he was moving silently. He just was a void, like something had drawn all noise from him. There was no heartbeat, no breathing...even his clothes sounded more like flesh on flesh than textile.

The Ranger lifted his head and settled his icy blue eyes on them.

Eyes like a predator. Like a Wraith. And the Orc felt naked _fear_ trying to worm its way into his head. He couldn't allow this.

"Who are you?" Gothmog snapped at the man-thing. "Why are you here?"

The man-thing glanced at him for a brief second, and this was enough to make the Orc step back. "You may call me Zeus", it said with a fake human voice. Gothmog had heard many humans, and this thing didn't sound like one.

It was more of a Wraith, but far more deadly.

It pulled its lips upwards, revealing many white teeth. Too many for a normal human. "You might also know me as the one who threatened your Master with Death", the thing added.

This creature? Threatened the mighty Eye?!

"Don't jest with us, maggot!" Gothmog snarled at it.

"Me? Jest? I would never joke", the thing declared with a wide grin. "My sister always says I have absolutely no humour." His smirk dropped off his face quickly though. "And she's right." It straightened its back and glowered at the Orc army. "Listen up you fuckers!" It barked. "I will only say this once: You retreat. You will not put even one toe on this side of the River. You follow my request and I will have no reason to maim all of you."

Despite himself, Gothmog laughed. It really tried to scare them? They were Orcs!

"You cannot hope to win, maggot!" he sneered at it.

The thing didn't look intimidated, though. "Huh. I wouldn't have thought that this'll work anyways", it claimed bored. Slowly, it pulled its hands out of its pockets.

And suddenly his arms twisted and changed, like worms crawling across each other.

Gothmog took another step back when they stopped writhing after they had changed into a pair of giant talons. "Just gives me more than enough reason to rend you to shreds", the man-thing claimed. Its teeth flashed again and it took a step towards them. "Besides, I'm really hungry, after all." It took another step towards them and its voice dropped into a low growl. "I hope you are ready to bleed."

* * *

 _March 12_ _th_

The army of Théoden has arrived at the camp of Dunharrow at the middle of the second day. The King watched the amount of men and horses that littered the encampment with a frown. It weren't as many as he hoped. He turned to his trusted warrior, who approached them. "Grimbold, how many?"

"I bring five hundred from the Westfold, my Lord."

"We have three hundred from Fenmarch", Gamling added.

"Where are the riders from Snowburn?" The King asked with his brows deeply furrowed.

"None have come, my Lord."

Théoden made a disapproving click with his cheek. "Six thousand spears. Less than half what I hoped for."

"Six thousand will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor", Aragorn argued.

"More will come", Théoden claimed.

"Every hour lost will hasten Gondor's defeat", the Ranger pointed out, "We have till dawn. Then we must ride."

The King only nodded grimly. Six Thousand wasn't very good, but at least it was better than nothing.

A horse reared and neighed out nearby. Legolas was quick to calm it before it could break out. "The horses are restless", he said silently, "And the men are quiet."

"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain", Èomer explained with a nod towards the mountain he meant. It towered over the camp like a solid shadow, blotting out the sun and leeching away the warmth of their bodies.

"That road there", Gimli asked, pointing towards a narrow pathway leading away from the camp, "Where does it lead to?"

"It is the door to Dimholt", Legolas realized, "The door under the mountain."

"No-one who ever ventured there has ever returned", Èomer snorted darkly, "That mountain is evil."

Aragorn froze suddenly. He whirled around, glaring at the path where a shadow flitted away.

Was is really just a shadow? If yes, then why did he felt so watched?

"Aragorn!" Gimli called out, snapping him out of his thoughts, "Let's get some food."

The Ranger slowly turned to follow his friends, but his mind was still on what he believed he saw.

* * *

 _Arwen was lying on her bed, staring towards the ceiling. She was pale and thinner than he remembered, and her eyes were unfocused. The Evenstar was clutched in her hand._

" _I choose a mortal life", she whispered with a tear trailing down her cheek. "I wish I could have seen him. One last time."_

 _The pendant slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor._

Aragorn shot upright with a yell. Sweat was sticking to his body and his heart was racing like mad. His fist clenched around his knife so hard his knuckles turned white as he held it in front of his body to defend himself. His eyes focused on a shadow in the tent entrance. It was one of the Rohirrim who watched him with some worry.

"Sir? He said, "King Théoden awaits you."

Aragorn frowned and slowly got up. The soldier had removed his presence from the tent so the Ranger could prepare himself. Once he stepped outside, he followed the guard to the King's tent.

Aragorn furrowed his brows at the two cloaked figures standing near a fire. He knew they were watching him, but they didn't show any sign of it when he passed them. The Ranger was certain that he didn't see them before. And they clearly were no Men, for their cloaks were of too fine craft.

He would find them later, he decided, first of, he was going to figure out what the King wanted of him.

As he entered the tent alone (the guard stopped just outside), he noticed that Théoden was in the process of speaking to another hooded man, who sat in a chair. The King noticed the Ranger. "I take my leave", he mumbled and walked right outside, leaving Aragorn confused. He sent the soldier to get him, and now he didn't even want to speak with him? Why?

The hooded man cleared his throat and got up, walking slowly towards the Ranger. Aragorn wondered whether he was the reason for Théoden calling for him, and he found his suspicions confirmed when the other man removed his hood, revealing himself to be no-one other than the Elf Lord Elrond.

"My Lord Elrond" Aragorn gasped half surprised, half shocked.

"I come on behalf of whom I love", the Elf stated with a grim expression. "Arwen is dying. She will not long survive the evil that now spreads from Mordor." Aragorn swallowed the feeling of dread that threatened to crawl up his throat as Elrond continued. "The light of the Evenstar is failing. As Sauron's power grows, her strength wanes. Arwen's life is now tied to the fate of the Ring. The shadow is upon us, Aragorn. The end has come."

The Ranger felt hot rage grow inside his chest. How dare the Dark Lord threaten his love? "It will not be our end, but his", he growled lowly in reply.

"You ride to war", Elrond said, "But _not_ to victory. Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith. In secret he also sends another force, which will attack from the river. A fleet of Corsair ships sails from the South. They'll be in the city in two days."

"I already knew of that", The Ranger grumbled. "I was thinking of how to stop them, though I didn't manage to work out a plan."

Elrond's eyes narrowed. "You are outnumbered, Aragorn. You need more men."

"There are none", the Ranger admitted in defeat.

"There are those that...dwell in this mountain."

Aragorn stared wide-eyed at the Elf. "Murderers. Traitors! You would call upon them to fight? They believe in nothing! They answer to no-one!"

"They will answer to the King of Gondor", Elrond declared. He swiped away his cloak and pulled out a gleaming sword from beneath his robes. Aragorn believed for a few solid seconds that his eyes were betraying him. That couldn't be...this blade had been shattered. "Anduríl, Flame of the West. Forged from the shards of Narsil", Elrond explained, wiping away the Ranger's confusion.

With shaking hands, Aragorn took the blade of Isildur. It felt heavy in his hands. But it was real. "Sauron will not have forgotten the sword of Elendil", he whispered. "The Blade that has broken shall return to Minas Tirith."

"The man who can wield the power of this sword can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this earth", Elrond explained. He locked eyes with Aragorn. "Put aside the Ranger. Become who you were born to be. Take the Dimholt road."

And Aragorn finally understood what he had to do.

* * *

Aragorn was outside, preparing Brego when he felt somebody approach. He turned slightly to see a worried-looking Èowyn approaching him. The Shieldmaiden eyed the packs the Ranger placed on the horse.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked silently. "The War lies to the East. You cannot leave at the eve of the battle!" She shuffled her feet, voice turned pleading. "You cannot abandon the men."

"Èowyn..." Aragorn started to say, but the woman cut him off.

"We need you here."

"Why have you come?" He asked.

The woman blinked. "Do you not know?"

' _So that's the crux in that matter'_ , Aragorn thought with a frown. _'She still believes she is in love with me. But she's seeing somebody I clearly am not.'_

"It is but a shadow and a thought that you love", he told her, much to her shock. "I cannot give you what you seek."

Èowyn took a step back, staring at him with wide eyes as if she didn't understand what he was talking about. Aragorn slowly reached out to gently place his hand on her shoulder. "I have wished you joy since I first saw you, but it is not me who will give it to you."

He turned and stalked away, leading Brego. Èowyn stood there, staring at his retreating back. Aragorn knew he just hurt her deeply, but there was no other way. Besides, he still had a mission to do.

With furrowed brows, he began marching towards the street of Dimholt. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear somebody come closer.

"Just where do you think you're off to?" The Ranger turned slightly, noting Gimli who approached him. The Dwarf stood there with his axe planted firmly on the ground and glared at him.

"Not this time", Aragorn said, "This time you must stay, Gimli."

"Have you learnt nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?" Legolas threw in, smirking at the Ranger as he led Arod towards them. The two cloaked figures he's seen before were with him, also leading steeds.

The Ranger wanted to argue with them, but he was cut off again.

"Might as well accept it", one of the cloaked figures Aragorn declared.

"We're going with you, Estel." The second one said. Both removed their hoods, revealing Elladan and Elrohir beneath, much to Aragorn's surprise.

' _But then again, Lord Elrond was here. It wasn't that far-fetched that he brought his sons with him as well.'_

"We're in this together", Gimli declared with a tone of finality.

Aragorn nodded, knowing he had lost. The five of them turned and walked down the road of Dimholt, leaving the encampment and the worried soldiers behind.

* * *

Boromir, Faramir and Pippin no longer could contain their curiosity. They had to know what Alex was planning. Ever since he returned from Osgiliath, the man had locked himself into the storage building and didn't leave it again. And from what they knew, it was a really strange behaviour, as the plague couldn't tolerate sitting still for more than a few hours, but now he hadn't moved for nearly two whole days.

Boromir grimaced when he remembered the day he returned from Osgiliath.

" _Sir!" A guard yelled, "There is a group of Orcs approaching the city!"_

" _Orcs?!" Boromir's gaze went skywards instantly. Above Minas Tirith the sky was still clear and free of Sauron's fumes, so the battle hadn't begun yet. But why should Orcs pass the plain when they couldn't stand the light?_

 _Just in time he remembered what Alex told him before. "Show the way", he ordered the guard and together they quickly headed towards the walls._

 _Boromir could hear the other soldiers whisper amongst each other as he reached the walls. With a silent curse, he climbed up to the battlements, where his brother was already waiting._

" _Faramir!" He called out, "What is going on there?"_

" _See for yourself", the younger brother claimed, pointing at the plains in front of them._

 _The first thing Boromir saw was the small group of Orcs. He quickly counted them, it were twenty-four in total...and one troll._

 _It wasn't a very large problem for his men, since they were highly-trained soldiers and they could most likely use the horde for target practice, but there was something off with the creatures._

 _And then he noticed what it was. They just stumbled along, barely keeping their balance as they slowly drew closer. Their expressions were completely blank and most of them had...started to melt. Skin hung off their bodies, they were covered with large growths, while in other places their bodies had greatly degenerated, leaving only bones covered in stringy flesh. However, their eyes glowed in a brilliant red, like coals sunken in ash._

" _By the Ancestors", Faramir gasped and Boromir was glad that Pippin wasn't here at the moment._

" _What is going on?" A guard asked nervously._

" _I got me an army", a voice claimed. All heads snapped around to see Alex move towards the gates. He seemed completely undisturbed by the mangled Orcs (and the Troll) around him. He stopped and looked at the gate-keepers. "Would you kindly open these damn Gates? I'd like to get inside."_

" _We cannot allow the Orcs passage!" Faramir yelled. "They have been bred to attack mankind!"_

" _They aren't Orcs anymore!" Alex gave back. "They're vegetables at most. I killed off their brains. All that's keeping them alive is_ _ **me**_ _now."_

" _What?!"_

" _You heard me. Now open the damn gate before I punch it in. I don't want you guys to see-" He was cut off when an Orc made a horrid screeching/groaning noise and keeled over. With a swear, the plague in the shape of a man had moved back towards it and frowned at it, muttering "It's starting too soon" as he watched the Orc's face start slipping off its skull, only to be drawn back into its flesh through a few tendrils that snapped outside._

After this, it had been easy to allow them passage, Boromir remembered. Alex had led his 'army' towards the weapons depot and shoved them inside, then followed after them and slammed the doors shut.

Since then, they hadn't seen hide or hair of him.

"I see. You could no longer contain your curiosity." The three jumped at Gandalf's voice and whirled around, finding the Wizard leaned against a wall from where he watched them.

"Aren't you?" Pippin asked. "I mean, Alex never likes leaving anything alive, but now?"

Gandalf nodded in agreement. "If only for knowing what he plans. Let us see what the Black Light is doing."

Together, they moved down into the city, taking the shorter route by climbing down many stairs until they reached the storage building. Just as they stood in front of it to enter, a guard held them back.

"Sir", he asked uncertainly, "Are you sure you want to go in there?"

"Of course", Boromir said. "He's our friend. He saved me when an Uruk-Hai tried to kill me, so I trust him. Why?"

"None of the men want to enter this place", the Guard declared, "There's something wrong with it. No animal wants to be near it either."

"Let me be the judge of that." Boromir assured the man. "Besides, I'd like to know how he is doing. He hasn't come out of there at all."

"He did", the guard pointed out. "Just in the dead of the night I've seen the man leave the storage."

"And?" Faramir asked.

"He went to the fields of Pelennor" The man explained. His face turned pale. "And there he...changed his arm into a snake and plunged it deep into the soil. I don't know what he did, but he stayed that way for some time. Then he snapped it off, grew a normal arm back and returned to the storage as if nothing happened."

"Well, we're going to ask him then"

Boromir turned towards the building. Faramir already stood in front of it, frowning at it. Gandalf and Pippin glanced at the shut windows. Boromir followed their eyes and found something like veins that grew along the frames.

The Wizard arched his brows and went on to knock on the door. "Alex, it's me. Gandalf! I would like to speak to you."

The door creaked open.

"Not foreboding at all", Pippin whispered as they stepped through and into the Guard's Hall, where the men would hand out weapons. But now it was completely coated with what appeared to be flesh. Boromir heard his brother inhale sharply at the sight of the red and black matter that covered the walls. Orange glowing veins pulsed in the darkness, dying the room in eerie colours. However, there was nobody around.

As the group moved deeper into the room to find their missing companion, a strangely warped voice spoke up. "I would have expected you to arrive sooner." They turned around, but to their surprise, they found nobody.

"Where...?!"

There was a pause, then "Sorry." With a squelching sound, a black mass suddenly oozed out of the fleshy substance on the ceiling, slowly descending towards the ground like especially gross syrup. It wasn't really fluid though, more a collection of countless tendrils and denser black half-fluid flesh in between.

With a morbid fascination they watched as the sludge shifted and grated to pull itself into a human figure crouched on the floor.

Alex lifted his head and settled his icy eyes on them. "You guys really took your sweet time", he pointed out.

"We could only contain our curiosity for so long", Boromir explained after overcoming his shock. "We would like to know what you are doing. After all, you told us that this was vital for the defence of the city."

Alex hummed and got up in a smooth motion. "Guess I can give you a tour then", he suggested, rolling his shoulders. He motioned for them to follow him as he walked into the armoury. Their steps didn't produce an echo, only soft _slurks_ as they marched on and Pippin complained how weird the ground felt. Boromir noticed the Orc armour that littered the ground. But there was no trace of Orcs.

"What is this here?" Faramir asked.

"It is a Hive", Alex explained. "A nest, if you want to put it that way."

"A _nest_?"

"I'm not human, even if I look like one, don't forget this", he pointed out. He turned right and walked inside a room, and the other four followed after him.

Pippin let out a squeak, Gandalf set his face into a deep frown, Faramir and Boromir made startled gasps as they stared at what was in the center of the room. Four large mounds of flesh were attached to the walls, pulsing with the slow beat of a heart.

"What is this?" Faramir asked.

"Gestation chambers", Alex explained. He smirked, turning his icy blue eyes on them. "I'm _breeding an army_."

"What?!"

"I was afraid you'd say something of the kind", Gandalf muttered in defeat. "Tell me, how many have you experimented upon to reach the stage you are currently on?"

"I had to try it a few times, actually", Alex admitted with a shrug, "Until I got the dosage of the virus right, they simply melted or turned straight into something from Lovecraft." He noticed their horrified expressions, so he added: "Don't worry, I killed them before they could spread the infection, though it wasn't exactly pretty."

Gandalf frowned at the pulsing gestation chamber. "Is this truly what you want, Alex?" He asked silently.

The virus inclined his head. "Of course", he said, "I told you we need an army to stop Mordor. And I'm making one here that can effortlessly stop Mordor."

"In your mind this was the most logic way", the Wizard replied, "Though you have to stop and think what those creatures feel of this."

"You kill Orcs too, why not use them for something useful?"

"Killing Orcs and twisting them are two different things", Gandalf mumbled. "You are twisting them, corrupting them, infecting and changing them just as you wish without caring about them. However, this is exactly what Morgoth once did with the Elves. Can you truly call yourself a person, Alex, if you cannot even give your enemies a true death? Corrupting an enemy, no matter for what purpose, is of the foulest and darkest of crafts. One you shouldn't pursue."

The hooded man leaned back, glaring at the Wizard. "So, you're telling me that everything I've done so far is for naught just because of _morale_?"

"I'm telling you that giving in to your nature might not be wise. Think of it: If you find victory through corruption, then what will prevent you from changing those dear to you, even if you mean well? You should always see both sides." He paused and eyed the virus. "You claimed yourself that your...condition wasn't something to be desired. Don't force it on others, whether they are beyond saving or not."

Alex didn't reply to the Wizard, though Boromir could see how his brows furrowed as he thought about what Gandalf said.

Eventually, he sighed and gave in. "Fine. Fine. I'll terminate them again, but first they are going to kill Orcs, all right?"

"Good", Gandalf smiled, "Allow them a glorious battle."

"Wait", Pippin spoke up. "There are twenty-five here, but the guard said that you were outside once. What have you done?"

"Well, I did put out some traps. Big traps. With a lot of teeth."


	23. The War begins

**Author: This is the first Chapter of the Minas Tirith Battle. From Alex/Boromir's point of view.  
**

 **I hope you enjoy the ride.**

* * *

The War begins

 _March 14_ _th_

The day had broken without dawn and clouds were covering the sun, blotting out the light. Sauron's fumes had reached the city, signalling that time had run out.

Alex stood at the top of the cliff of Minas Tirith, eyeing the Pelennor Fields and the army that flooded it. Sauron's host was gigantic. Orcs, Easterlings, large Rhinoceros-like things, Wargs, Trolls, Variags...thousands of them. Maybe two hundred thousands of them, and all of them were armed to the teeth and deployed a great amount of trebuchets and siege towers.

Alex grinned.

His Biomass was boiling and the monster within was just waiting for the slaughter. This is what he was made for, after all. To rip through any and all opposition without mercy.

And this time, there was a lot of opposition, and unlike in the dark of Helm's Deep, here on the Pelennor fields he had a far better view of his entire prey.

And they had a better view of him, too.

Alex' grin widened as he imagined the fear he could instil in them. When they witnessed him slaughtering their brethren, then their Morale would drop and thus they get easier to pick off. Maybe he could even cause them to panic, to stomp each other flat. That would be glorious.

He knew that a panic would most likely not occur, though. He knew it from the Orcs he devoured in Osgiliath. These creatures were mostly driven by their urge to kill and they wouldn't back off if there was a thing that ate their people. Just like him, he thought with a lopsided smirk.

His insides gave another painful twist he had to fight down. He would get his chance, but he would bid his time and wait for them to stop marching so he could start mincing. The many commanders and Randall himself were arguing against it inside his mind, that he should attack before they had fully organized themselves, but Alex knew better. If they had formed close ranks, then his prey wouldn't be able to escape, since those in the back would continue to push to the front, where he was going to wait.

And he was going to enjoy this. After all, he did have one devastating ability he could use to end the whole war: The Virus itself. It would be so easy to spread it and have it infect the _entire_ army. Not necessarily deadly, but certainly so he could crawl into their heads. He could order them to commit suicide on cellular basis. It would be like taking out a whole army using a _sneeze_.

But Alex wasn't going to do that. His body wanted action, wanted to feel life being snuffed out by his weapons. A One-shot-kill-all-attack was clearly out of question. Maybe he'll use it as a last-ditch effort. But only maybe.

He eyed the trebuchets and siege towers with a scowl. These were going to give him a headache. After all, his army was only going to go after Orcs.

He made sure of that. After all, the Hunters from whose genetic structure he designed his pets, only went after people because they had been human at one point. They sought out only those for harvesting. His creatures were the same, only that they had been made from Orcs. So they would go after Sauron's forces.

But that also meant they would greatly ignore the Haradrim or Corsairs, unless they attacked them.

Maybe he shouldn't have killed off their minds, he mused as he eyed the crowd beneath him. Maybe he should have left some intact, as the creatures he created only operated with his direct orders. They had no own will, no own mind. All they knew was to kill whatever Alex pointed them at. Like a gun.

They made them perfect weapons, but were also pretty helpless without him.

He effortlessly squashed the voice that shrieked at him and sounded like Elizabeth Greene. The part of him that _was_ Greene was mortally offended by treating Blacklight creations like weapons.

" _They're your children!"_ She screeched, _"How dare you treat them like tools?!"_

' _I beg to differ'_ , Alex bit back mentally, _'I don't_ _ **have**_ _children. They are weapons. Nothing more.'_ He shut her up before she could retort something. He really had to learn to make his prey _shut up_. It wasn't like they were actual persons trapped inside him, but sometimes, the strongest of their previous thoughts and ideas still managed to worm its way to the front of his mind. And Greene used to have a pretty strong mind.

He scowled as he forced her thoughts down, focusing instead on the city of Minas Tirith.

Boromir had his men evacuate the first two levels and put up barricades. Alex had promised he'd try to prevent any Orc from entering the city, but he had told them clearly that they shouldn't expect any miracles. He _knew_ that it was going to be ugly and he was certain that the armies of Sauron would be able to break through their defences using sheer amount of warriors alone.

But there was no way in Hell that Alex allowed them to get any further than the second level, should they manage to enter. He had enough of people getting endangered because he dragged his own ass. Blacklight was here to protect them. And he was going to do just that.

The Blacklight virus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could smell the fear of the people of Minas Tirith in the air. He could almost _taste_ their panic, their desperation. It was different from New York for sure.

Alex opened his eyes and glared at the army. He could smell the Bloodlust of the enemy, he could hear their battle cries, their roars, their shouts for human flesh. The virus smirked darkly. He too wanted blood and gore. And this battle promised a lot of it. He just knew that his mind was going to shut off and leave him with only his instincts to kill every last opponent, but he hoped that he wouldn't go overboard with it.

He threw a last glance over the field that soon was going to become his playground, before he turned away and walked up to Gandalf. The Wizard stood there with Denethor and Pippin near the White Tree. Gandalf had his brows furrowed, watching him closely. The Steward was scowling deeply, though there was a gracious amount of fear on his expression. Pippin was looking around uncertainly, fiddling with his sword.

Boromir and Faramir were out of sight, somewhere down there in the city. If he had to hazard a guess, then Alex would say that they were on the first wall to rally the men. Quite a dangerous location, but also the best places to enjoy the show he was going to give.

"The battle begins", Gandalf noted. "The siege has started. Now only the bravery of man and your raw strength will allow us to survive the night."

"And tomorrow?" Pippin asked uncertainly.

"Tomorrow? There is no tomorrow", Denethor growled. "We all are going to die here."

"We'll see", the virus replied.  
His outer layer shifted and the Prototype returned to his default shape with the leather jacket and the worn-out jeans. "I'm going down there now and show these fuckers what it means to face the Monster of Manhattan."

"Good Luck", Gandalf said. "And Alex? Try to prevent your darkness from corrupting the enemy."

Alex nodded once and turned again, sprinting towards the end of the cliff. He leapt off and snapped his arms back, gliding right above the field of Pelennor so he would be far away enough from the walls as to not accidentally break their defences. He glared down, seeing the army beneath him like he always saw the Infected. Tiny. Weak. Insignificant.

And he would slaughter the Orcs just like he did the Infected.

The Bioweapon curled himself up for a moment before he expelled Biomass upwards to change his trajectory. He shot towards the ground head-first, feeling the air rush past him as he descended akin to a meteor. The world was blurring around him and he only had a few seconds to watch Minas Tirith rush past before he impacted into the ground.

The results were glorious.

The whole city shook from the force and several of the guards were thrown off their feet. The Orcs however suffered far worse than the humans. Alex' initial impact had already flattened twenty of them, the following shockwave killed about thirty more, and that was just close-up. Many more had been hit and subsequently killed by flying debris, rubble, body parts and armour. Within the blink of an eye he had opened the battle and already killed off more than most people manage to pick off during the whole conflict.

The virus' body was shivering with tendrils as the damage his own Bullet Dive had caused was repaired within seconds. His eyes were glowing as he glared at the Uruks in front of him. He quickly singled out their leader, especially since he was the one who stared at him with the most hatred. His name was Gothmog. Incidentally, he was also the guy he had left alive in Osgiliath for the sole purpose of telling stories about Blacklight to the other Uruks.

"Well, hello there", Blacklight greeted them with a nasty sneer. "Beautiful day we're having, eh?"

"How dare you!" Gothmog growled at him. "It is you again! The thing with the face of a man!" He spat at the ground, eyes focused on Alex. "Your little tricks won't help you. We will raze the city to the ground. And you alone can not stop us. We are too many for you!"

"I don't think so. You know, I've been horribly busy to prepare for this battle", Alex explained. "Been infecting your people, turned them over to my side, fucked the laws of biology...The point is, that I am no longer 'alone'." He lifted his arms and his eyes flashed red. "Guys, would you kindly get over here?"

Two dozen roars answered his order. The virus slipped into the Hive Mind, seeing what his creations saw. The defenders of Minas Tirith jumped in horror as the door to the storage was torn down and the Infected shot out of the building. Claws scraped across the solid stone floor, horses neighed in panic as the beasts barrelled down the street. Within seconds they had reached and mounted the walls so they were now perched on the battlements to survey the scenery.

Alex' variation of Hunters. While they still greatly resembled the Infected from Manhattan, there were several differences. They were about the same size, but their faces were much clearer defined with their massive gaping jaws that resembled a dog's skull and the red glowing eyes. Their skin was dark with occasional orange glowing veins. Their muscles bulged above their bones and their claws were sharp. All in all, they barely looked like Orcs anymore, but rather like giant, demonic Gorilla/Hound Hybrids.

Four of them were even larger and possessed massive spikes along their backs. Those were the ones the Prototype was using as pack leaders. He called them Brawlers, because they were supposed to brawl the opposition into the ground.

They sat on the battlements, ignoring the humans left and right and growling at the Uruk Army. Not few had stepped back, staring at the Hell Hounds in fear.

Alex could feel their hunger burn in his own veins. He could feel their intense desire to attack and rend the enemy. They wanted to make the flesh of the Orcs their own, but they wouldn't act without his orders. So he called forth the last one.

The tense silence that settled over the battle field was shattered as the storage building literally exploded.

The last Infected wasn't as subtle as the Brawlers were. It was larger, much more heavy set and had still clearly Troll features on its face. Its front paws were a horrid mixture between Alex' Hammerfists and his Shields. Not great for grabbing or slashing, but wonderfully effective to turn opposition into mush.

He had named this guy lovingly 'The Juggernaut'.

With an uproar, the Juggernaut catapulted itself off the floor to clear the wall. Just like Alex, it caused a crater once it landed in front of the Orc Horde. The Uruks stepped back, staring at the beasts that had arrived all of a sudden.

"My guns are bigger", the Blacklight Virus smirked. "What do you think will happen next?"

The ground shook violently, sending the armies stumbling. Seconds later, a siege tower began to tilt over, wobbling precariously on its side. The ground shattered and a giant snake with a two-pronged beak broke through the soil, knocking the tower over.

A Hydra- one of four, actually- and unlike the Brawlers, this thing was essentially a part of the Prototype, only cut off from the remaining body and acting on its own.

"That's right", Alex purred and the armies of Mordor stepped back in terror. "You can do nothing else but die. Now scream. And die."

The Infected pounced.

* * *

King of the Gods. Boromir swallowed hard as he watched Alex and his creations tear a bloody swathe through the Orc's ranks with no troubles.

He once asked the plague in the shape of a man what his other names meant, as 'Alex Mercer' was the one his creator had and what he chose as name for himself. 'Blacklight' was the name of the disease that he was. The complicated sequence of numbers and letters was the serial number under which the plague was handled as the real Doctor Mercer created it.  
But 'Zeus' was what impressed him most. The name originated from one of the old Gods from Alex' world. The God of Thunder. The King of the Gods. And now, as he was mercilessly ripping Orcs from limb to limb, he got an inkling of why the men chose to call him that. Even without his armour, the attacking hordes weren't able to put so much as a scratch on him. Boromir could see him briefly when he leapt out of the surrounding crowd to reach another place, but other than that, only the spray of blood and Orc body parts hinted at his current location.

Alex' Beasts too were racing along the field, killing and devouring any Orc that dared to come closer. It appeared as though they were fettered to stay close to the walls by some sort of invisible leash. They weren't venturing any farther than several yards, just enough to keep the army out and still within shooting range.

And shooting was what Boromir ordered his men. Thousands of arrows rained down on the Uruk hordes, and even though many projectiles simply bounced off the heavy armour of the enemy, they still managed to drop several of them.

But still more pressed towards them. A siege tower nearby groaned and shattered as one of those giant serpents broke through the soil. He's seen those creatures before, in Helm's Deep. It was the shape Alex took shortly after they left the Hornburg to face the Uruk-Hai.

Something crashed above him, and he swore, remembering the trebuchets the Orcs deployed. A massive boulder was hurled across the plains and hit the wall of the second level, tearing a giant hole inside. Another boulder came hurling towards them and it would have hit the walls, if not for one of the serpents to shoot from the floor. It had intended to attack a siege tower, but was hit by the boulder instead. The projectile shattered its skull and cleanly ripped its head off, sending the body tumbling against the walls. He heard Faramir swear as he ducked and brought up his shield to protect himself against the barbed tongue that collapsed on top of him. Blood splattered against the walls and the brickwork started to crack when the corpse fell against it.

At the same moment, there was an enraged roar somewhere inside the ranks of the Orcish army, and the Beasts howled out and doubled their attacks.

The Gondorian swore as the Orcs realized what was going on. They screeched and almost immediately two more trebuchets were aimed at the now weak point in the wall.

Above them, more boulders impacted into the walls and towers of Minas Tirith, tearing gaping holes into them.

There was a whistling sound and Boromir ducked out of instinct, as something hot soared above their heads. It hit several storage buildings and a massive heat wave seized the men.

They didn't need to turn around to know that something caught fire. Bastards had used a firebomb.

"Extinguish the fire!" Faramir yelled, grabbing the attention of the guards. "Stop it from spreading!"

Several men left their position swearing to grab buckets and form a line to the nearest well. Having a fire break out inside the city while they were busy defending it wasn't exactly helping.

And the siege towers still pressed towards them. "Stop the towers!" Boromir bellowed, "Aim for the Trolls! Not the towers!"

A serpent shot from the ground, impaling and devouring one of the trolls that pushed the towers while also shattering the construct.

The wall shook violently when a boulder hit it with full force, cracking the brickwork even more.

"Stop them!" Boromir shouted, "Do not allow them to come any further!"

There was the sound of flesh tearing when a pack of the Beasts returned to the would-be breach and started tearing through the Orcs there.

Behind him, Boromir heard hooves pound the ground. He turned his head slightly to see the White Wizard approach them, staff at the ready. "Hold the position!" Gandalf bellowed, "Do not let the armies of Mordor any closer!"

The older sibling noticed how the Orcs started to change tactics. Instead of trying to form dense fronts, they slipped aside so the Beasts found themselves surrounded. Like on signal, several Uruks suddenly closed the trap and charged the Beasts with overwhelming numbers. "They're cutting them off!" Faramir shouted. He targeted another Orc, glaring at the still-approaching towers. "Everybody stop the siege towers!" Another tower groaned and broke into the ground where the serpents had buried. However, this time, it fell right towards the walls. With an ear-splitting crack, it hit the weakened wall and broke through. Men were yelling in pain and shock as a hole opened up. The enemies' armies moved towards the breach.

"Get ready!" Boromir yelled, drawing his sword as the Orcs spilled inside. The Gondorian shot to the front, stabbing the first of the invading troops and bashing his shield into the face of another one.

Another serpent smashed through the ground, ripping through the armies, but even it could no longer prevent the armies from marching right inside the city. Boromir swore, realizing that the serpents could _not_ enter the city, lest they'd cause more damage to the structure.

Gandalf was there suddenly, dismounted from Shadowfax, swinging sword and staff and smashed several of the attackers. He was truly a sight to see how he alone took on several Uruks at once and still managed to win.

With a start, Boromir realized that one Orc was about to stab Faramir, when it suddenly doubled over. Pippin was right behind it and had sliced into its heel to drop it.

"Peregrin Took!" Gandalf began as he stabbed the downed invader, "Get back to the citadel! Now!"

"They called us out to fight", the little Hobbit gave back with a trembling but determined voice.

"This is no place for a Hobbit!" Boromir shouted, whirling to kill another Orc.

Pippin effortlessly burrowed his sword into another one creature, dropping it. Gandalf eyed the Hobbit. "Guard of the Citadel indeed!" The Wizard chuckled. He turned quickly serious again. "Now back up the hill. Quick!" He turned to the brothers who nodded. "We can deal with them", the Wizard assured Pippin. "Go! Check on Denethor!"

Reluctantly, the Hobbit ran off and away from the battle.

Boromir and his brother quickly dispatched of more Orcs when suddenly black tendrils snatched one of the approaching siege towers and effortlessly hoisted them into the air before chucking it with full force into another one, shattering both.

Alex appeared on top of the walls with an enraged roar. He was completely stained with black blood, and with his eyes glowing a brilliant crimson, he appeared much more violent that he normally was.

"Took you long enough!" Boromir commented. The Plague snapped his head towards him with a snarl, glowing eyes resting on him for several seconds. Boromir froze instinctively, like a rabbit in front of a predator. The Gondorian realized how far the other's mind was gone, lost in the heat of battle. He had seen it happening to lesser men, but thinking about what the plague could do in this state was...really scary.

Luckily, Alex snarled and turned away with great effort, diving at another Orc and just completely _decimated_ it to shreds. The Beasts down at the walls howled out in rage as they mindlessly began tearing through the attacking forces, no longer caring about working in packs.

"That's not good", Gandalf stated with worry. "They're frenzied. There's no clear attack goal anymore."

They ducked as a massive boulder soared over their heads and smashed into the buildings behind them.

"We can't worry about them!" Boromir snapped, "We need to take out the catapults!"

He jerked around when he heard a hollow crunch and the screaming of his people. And above all of it was the high-pitched screech of the Nazgûl.

* * *

Slice. Kill. Stomp. Consume.

Repeat.

Blacklight howled out in irritation. He already slaughtered so many, why were there still so many _alive_?! They were supposed to die!

He coiled his body and unleashed a mighty Tendril Barrage Devastator, reducing even more of them to nothing. Too many still alive. Too many still moving.

Why didn't they die? They should die already!

The virus inside churned, driving the Bioweapon forwards. He needed to rend limb from limb, he needed the feeling of life being snuffed out by his claws.

The rational part of his mind, the one called _Alex_ wasn't holding him back, was lost in the heat of battle. He had lost the contact with at least two or three of the Beasts, with only the lingering echo of their voices left in his mind. One of the four Hydras had met its untimely end as well. Blacklight roared out enraged, slicing and consuming more enemies.

Hunger still raged inside his veins and pain dominated its mind. Not his own pain, but rather that of his creatures that were swarmed by so many foes that they couldn't stop them in time.

Time!

' _I'm running out of time!'_

Blacklight paused right in the middle of the skirmish, finally forming a clear thought in his head. ' _Why?'_

' _The city is being overrun'_

The Blacklight Virus whirled around, realizing that, in fact, there were siege towers on the walls, a hole in the defences and Orcs flooding the place. He needed a moment to turn that thought over in his head, to figure out what to do with this information.

' _Wasn't my purpose to protect them? Humans are squishy, they might not survive'_ The rational part of his mind questioned.

' _Kill more'_

Blacklight roared and shifted to the Tendrils as he lunged towards the first siege tower. He tore it from the wall and threw it into another one, shattering it and killing every Orc within.

' _Not enough'_

He leapt to the crown of the wall and just grabbed and consumed an attacker to try to force down the hunger gnawing at him.

Something inside didn't want him to sate it efficiently, didn't want him to spread out and just _take everything_.

"Took you long enough", a man said next to him. Blacklight snapped his head towards him, eyes resting on his form. He was shining a brilliant warm colour, indicating that he was healthy and ready for harvesting. ' _Human, warm and not suspecting an attack. It's so long since I've devoured humans.'_

Hunger howled on the inside of his mind, demanding Blacklight to kill the human, to add his Biomass to his own, but his body didn't move.

 _He_ still held control over his actions. But Blacklight's bloodlust was not sated, just like his hunger was. But he couldn't attack the human, _he_ wouldn't let him.

So the weapon turned and started to decimate more Orcs instead. The pained howls of the Beasts below only made him more furious. These worms wanted to fight the mighty Blacklight?! Blacklight was more powerful than them, Blacklight was the apex predator! Blacklight was going to tear them to shreds until nothing was left of them!

A shriek above them drew their attention and like an elastic band, the weapon's rational mind snapped back into action. It was like switch that was flicked over, and Alex took back control from his primal side.

He still felt the anger, the hatred and the pure lust for carnage, but above all of these emotions was the single task to protect the city. He promised it, after all. But the Orcs had already breached the walls, so all he could do was trying to do some damage control.

There was another screech and the virus glared up, witnessing the winged beasts of the Nazgûl rain terror upon the people of Minas Tirith.

The Juggernaut gave a horrid screech as two dozen Orcs swarmed it at once, hacking away with their swords. Alex' Beasts were not as strong as him and without the possibility to feed in peace their health was quickly whittled away.

The Juggernaut gave one last roar before it collapsed to the ground. The charging enemy took great pleasures in caving in its skull and utterly decimating its corpse.

A loud _Crack_ echoed through the city as the giant gate gave in, allowing the armies to flood inside from that side as well.

"Hold the lines!" Gandalf shouted over the noise of battle, "Drive them back!"

"We need to regroup!" Boromir yelled, "We have to stop them!"

Alex narrowed his eyes at the death of his creation, and reached out to the Brawlers. He mentally called them back to the walls. He felt their rage and hunger, their desire to feed on as many Orcs as possible, but they had to obey him.

" _Protect the city and the walls. Kill every Orc you can find inside. Do not harm the humans."_

The beasts roared in acknowledgement. The hooded man wasted no time to jump down to the street to build up speed. Then he sprinted up the vertical cliff to get higher.

To take care of the Nazgûl.

* * *

Boromir was panting heavily. He had witnessed the great Troll Beast being taken down, had seen how the Orcs had broken the door. Now with the gates broken, the Orcs flooded into Minas Tirith from two sides.

They had to retreat soon, back to the higher levels. They were already surrounded from all sides and the fire that had broken out before was starting to spread, despite their efforts to stop it.

"We have to retreat!" The Gondorian ordered, "Get back to the first Level! Now!"

"We need more time!" Faramir shouted, "Something that distracts the enemy for a moment so we _can_ retreat!"

A roar near him got their attention, as the Beasts returned. It appeared they had forgone their bloody chase after the Orcs to return to the city.

But here they showed their true powers. In the narrow streets, they could move much easier than the Orcs, clinging to walls as if gravity didn't exist. They quickly stopped the approaching hordes and continued their bloody work from there, slaying the enemy with no mercy. The Orcs couldn't battle them as effectively here as they could in the open and their invasion quickly came to a standstill.

Orc corpses and Troll carcasses soon filled the narrow streets and stained the ground black.

"Retreat!" Boromir ordered, swinging his sword to decapitate another Orc. His men quickly began falling back, now that they had gotten some precious time to do so.

There was an ear-splitting cry from above as one of the winged beasts was brought to the ground. It landed heavily on the wall, just where Boromir was a few seconds before. The Wall cracked beneath the force of the impact, but luckily didn't cave in any further.

It was hard to see anything through the upcoming darkness, but there was a heavy impact, directly followed by the high-pitched death shrieks of another Nazgûl being reduced to an empty husk.

"Hold them back!" Gandalf ordered as he dove first into the Orc hordes, slaying more of them. A Troll approached him, roaring at the Wizard. Just as Gandalf was about to dodge the beast, it let out a wet gurgle and collapsed near the wizard. Alex appeared behind the carcass, with his giant blade for an arm.

"And then there were six", he declared proudly, holding up the Nazgûl's empty robe like a dog that brought back a dead rabbit.

"This will make the Nazgûl think twice", Gandalf gave back. "But not the Orcs. Their hatred for mankind presses them further. You must hold the barricade!"

"I'm on it." Alex agreed. He crouched low and created his shield, keeping the blade on the other arm. He braced himself, then suddenly charged, knocking the attackers violently back. A part of his pack followed instantly, tearing the downed creatures to shreds, while the others returned to the walls to take on the invaders there.

Boromir realized that the virus was giving them more precious time to retreat and regroup, and for that he was grateful. Even he couldn't stop the invading army now that it had found two entrances to the city, but he could slow them down greatly. And prevent others to follow after them.

Mercer stopped and eyed the downed Juggernaut for a moment, then plunged his tendrils into the corpse, absorbing its flesh.

With his body strengthened from the meal, he unleashed a massive amount of those giant black spikes. They ran away from the city, stopping the approaching horde for a moment. The ground turned slick with blood and guts and the carcasses began to block the following armies.

Boromir exhaled shakily, lifted his head and stared at the darkening sky. He hoped that help would arrive soon, for he knew that neither of them could hold the city for very long.


	24. The Riders of Rohan

**Author: This chapter is from Èowyn's point of view. Because she is awesome.  
And the scene where the Riders of Rohan appear and just march right into the Orc army is one of the most awesome scenes in movie history. So, enjoy.  
**

* * *

The Riders of Rohan

Èowyn swallowed thickly. It was the dawn of the 15th of March. They had ridden through the night to reach the fields in time, but cold dread settled in her stomach when she took notice of the state the White City was in.

Minas Tirith lay in front of them with smoke spiralling upwards. The lower level was on fire. Orcs had breached the gate and were running rampant behind the walls.

"I hope we aren't too late", Merry whispered from where he sat in front of her. Èowyn swallowed again and wrapped one arm around the Hobbit. The shieldmaiden had disguised herself as a male soldier, so she could ride with the men and her brother wouldn't recognize her. She was just glad that he always rode to the front of the host and hadn't bothered looking back. Èomer would have noticed her immediately otherwise.

The Riders of Rohan had stopped atop a ledge overlooking the Pelennor Fields. Èowyn saw their eyes narrowing when faced with the destruction of the White City. They were getting angry. Théoden was eyeing the fields as well while the men waited in silence, though they burned for battle. The desire for glorious death boiled in their veins, yet they wouldn't do a thing until their King gave the correct order.

Èowyn leaned to the front, whispering. "Courage, Merry. Courage for our friends." She hugged him tighter, feeling the Halfling shake in her grasp. He was afraid, but that was alright. She was afraid too.

Théoden glared darkly as the Orcs that noticed them got into position.

The King gave a wordless snort and turned Snowmane to begin barking orders. "Èomer! Take your eored along the left side!"

"Yes, my Lord!" Èowyn's older brother acknowledged, turning his steed and riding off to his assigned side.

"Gamling!" Théoden continued with a harsh voice, "Follow the King's banner down the centre! Grimbold! Take your company right, after you pass the wall!" The King turned, addressing the men as he rode up and down in front of them. "Forth! And fear no Darkness!" He galloped down their ranks, voice raised to a loud shout. Èowyn ducked away so her uncle would not recognize her behind that helmet, but he was too busy moralizing his troops "Arise! Arise! Riders of Théoden! Spears shall be shaken! Shields shall be splintered! A sword-day! A red day, _ere_ the sun rises!"

"Whatever happens, stay with me", the shieldmaiden whispered as the men lowered their spears a bit. "I will look after you." She hugged Merry tighter with one arm and the Hobbit nodded in her hold.

Théoden was now riding along the rows of the men, sword clanking against the spears. "Ride now!" He shouted. "Ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin and the world's ending!" He swung his sword in a dramatic motion. "DEATH!" He yelled, turning back towards the enemy.

"DEATH!" The Riders roared together, lifting their spears into the air.

"DEATH!" The King bellowed again.

"DEATH!" Merry yelled at the top of his lungs.

"DEATH!" Èowyn shouted.

"Forð Eorlingas!" Théoden declared and everybody fell silent as the King slowly moved to the front, a grim expression on his face. The horns rang out and all six thousand riders set into motion as one. They spurred their steeds and the plains began to shake when Théoden's entire host began to charge. Èowyn felt her blood boil as the wind whipped past her. She opened her mouth, yelling "DEATH!" at the top of her lungs. The Rohirrim sped up, shouting their battle cries as they charged towards the enemy. The noise was overwhelming.

The Orcs had gotten into position to target them with their bows and Èowyn already expected the black arrows to rain down all around them, to take out her kinsmen. But they wouldn't stop. Not now. They would break through and decimate the foul creatures.

The ground exploded before Sauron's forces could fire, sending the Orcs stumbling. Three giant red and black snakes with a two-pronged beak broke forth, screeching in rage. Èowyn eyes widened, but they couldn't abort their charge now. One of the serpents lurched downwards, slicing a long barbed tongue and its sharp-edged jaws through the Orc hordes, ripping them to pieces.

The other serpents did the same, slicing through the enemy host.

That was the chance, Èowyn noticed. From the corner of her eyes she saw a spark of recognition in Théoden's eyes and a grim smirk on his face. He didn't see the beasts as a threat. The Orcs had forgone trying to target the Rohirrim and when the riders crushed into the first row of Sauron's Forces, Èowyn quickly realized that the serpents didn't attack them. Her uncle was right. These were their allies.

The charge carried them deep into the enemy's host and away from the giant serpents. Èowyn slashed her sword down, decapitating a group of Uruks.

The Riders had arrived. Time to turn the tides.

* * *

The charge had slowed down and the attacking Rohirrim were more or less hacking and slashing at any Orcs around them. The Riders had split up, each of them taking care of another small group of Orcs. Èowyn was close to her brother, stabbing her sword down into the wretched Uruks. Chaos was all around them, as the Orcs tried to crowd around the Riders to take them down. However, when fighting in close ranges, the creatures injured each other much more often than they managed to land a hit on the Rohirrim, which was clearly in the favour of Théoden's Riders. Also, the Orcs simply lacked the Rohirrim's tactical and military training. It was easy for a single man to take out half a dozen of them before they could even react. Their strength was mainly their numbers, but it didn't mean anything when faced against soldiers with superior training who just had to stab somewhere at random and still manage to kill one Orc.

Sauron's Forces were only scary when they attacked first with overwhelming numbers. In close combat, they were just a pathetic horde.

At the same time, the initial attack of the Rohirrim had broken through their formation, leaving them vulnerable to their blows.

Not that those Uruks that were close to the city had a formation left to speak off. Every slight tremor in the ground made them jump away and break their poorly-formed ranks. The Beasts that had appeared from the earth were taking a huge toll on their morale and fighting prowess.

Windfola neighed out and dodged out of the way, seconds before one of those snakes broke from the ground with a shriek.

' _So they DO burrow through the ground'_ , Èowyn thought. She steered Windfola away from the Beast to allow it to take care of the enemy, though she realized that this thing was pretty large. Larger than the three she's seen before, so it was a different one? The sound of tearing flesh reached her ears and as she glanced back, she noticed with horror how the snake started to split in the middle. Within moments, both halves separated from the other and grew back into two fully functional, albeit smaller serpents.

' _Oh. So they can grow more of themselves.'_

"What manner of creatures are these?!" Gamling yelled appalled as he caught sight of this. The two newly-grown Beasts snapped at the Orc horde and one of them grabbed and flung a massive piece of soil with deadly accuracy at a nearby trebuchet, destroying it completely and killing those that operated them.

"I do not know", Èomer gave back with a tense voice, "But it appears they voluntarily target the Orcs, not us." He pulled the reins and made his steed dodge to the left to avoid one of these creatures to spear him with its tongue. "Though they do not care about whether they injure us or not. Keep your distance, men!"

Èowyn agreed whole-heartedly. She noticed how Merry suddenly stiffened against her. She risked a glance down, realizing that the Halfling was not looking at the serpents, but rather somewhere else.

"By the Valar", she gasped as she followed his line of sight to the walls of Minas Tirith. The once pristine white stone was splattered black. A giant black pool coated the entire area in front of the walls, though more Uruks pushed inside the city through a breach in the brickwork and through the shattered gate. However, Èowyn could see _something_ run across the walls and buildings, attacking them. They were moving too fast and she was too far away, so she couldn't get a very clear image.

But they were on the side of Minas Tirith and fighting off the armies of Sauron.

The Orcs couldn't fight the Beasts in the city, they couldn't fight against the serpents from the ground and they were utterly defenceless against the Riders of Théoden. Things were beginning to look more and more in the favour of Man.

"Drive them back into the river!" Èomer ordered, loping off a particularly large Orc's head. The armies around them began fleeing, scattering into all directions in face of the hopelessness of their attempts to bring the Riders down. The Rohan Warriors were much too good.

"Make safe the city!" Théoden shouted. Several of his men began moving towards the walls, but all of them stopped when several horns resounded over the Fields of Pelennor.

Èowyn could see how her uncle's face slowly fell, turning from a victorious grin to an incredulous stare.

The ground began to tremble and all of the Rohirrim stopped what they were doing, staring at the giant shapes that peeled out of the dust and fog of the battlefield.

They were huge animals, between 40 and 50 feet, with a long trunk and at least six tusks each. Their skin was grey and without any hair. Every one of them had a tower mounted to their back, and dozens of men were perched inside, ready to rain their arrows down on the enemy.

They were the Mûmakil of the Haradrim.

The Orcs stepped aside, running away to allow them passage as the giant creatures stomped towards the Riders like living mountains. They weren't fast, but they also didn't slow down. And they certainly couldn't be stopped by normal means.

The Rohirrim stared at the approaching beast in fear and their horses kicked the ground, snorting in panic. They were clearly afraid of the large beasts.

Théoden grit his teeth and glared on the creatures. "Reform the line! Reform the line!" He ordered and his men did just that. They formed close ranks, and the Mûmakil lifted their heads and arched their trunks upwards, braying loudly. Their bellows drowned out the noise of the battle completely. And it also was a declaration of war. Théoden narrowed his eyes. "Sound the charge!" He shouted.

Gamling blew his horn even as the King lifted his sword. "Rohirrim! Charge!"

Every single of the men spurred their steeds and had them shoot to the front, towards the Mûmakil.

The Riders were brutally inferior towards the beasts. With a single swipe of their giant tusks, the Mûmakil could send a dozen of her kinsmen flying. Most of them didn't get back up again. Some were unfortunate enough to get stuck on the spikes attached to the tusks, suffering a slow and agonizing death. But even those Rohirrim that managed to avoid the attacks were quickly picked off by the dozen archers on each Mûmakil.

The shieldmaiden watched in horror as the mighty beasts trampled several of her kinsmen dead like they were bugs, but neither of the Riders let themselves deter. The Mûmakil were giant, and powerful, but they were slow.

After the initial loss of nearly a quarter of their men, the Rohirrim changed tactics: rode around the beasts, let them run into empty fields. Instead of charging head-on, they followed after the Mûmakil, targeting their riders. It wasn't exactly safe either, but it was better than trying to attack them from the front. What else were they supposed to do? The Mûmakil's hide was far too strong for their arrows to pass through, and even if they managed to penetrate their skins, then what effect were they supposed to have?

Èomer rode to the front, stopping and turning to face the giant beasts. He lifted his spear over his head and launched it right at the rider of one of the Mûmakil with all his strength. His aim was true and he hit the man right in his chest. The Haradrim gave a short cry and tumbled over the side, but the hooks he steered the beast with got caught in its ear. With the body weighing the hook down, the Mûmak turned left, trying to ease the pain. It hit the one walking besides it, staggering it. The second Mûmak fell on the first, crushing its skull under its mass while being forced down by the heavy tower on its back. It would survive, but it wouldn't be able to get up again.

Two Mûmakil down with one spear. Èowyn found herself really admiring her older brother.

' _But this also shows that these beasts can be brought down.'_

"Take the reins, Merry!" Èowyn shouted. The Hobbit did so, reluctantly and he did manage to steer Windfola safely beneath an approaching Mûmak. The shieldmaiden managed to grab a second sword off an Orc. "Pull it left! Left!"

Windfola dashed through between the legs of another Mûmak while avoiding the tusks and trunk of a third one. Then they charged a fourth one. They dashed through between its legs and Èowyn first smashed one sword into one front leg, then both into the hind legs. The beast gave a pained bellow and collapsed to the ground. It tried to struggle back upright, but with the heavy tower and its injured feet, it couldn't get up.

"Aim for the heads!" Èomer shouted. He shot an arrow and hit another Mûmak right in the eye. The beast howled out and reared up, shaking the tower on its back. Its riders tumbled out and Théoden began barking orders. "TAKE IT DOWN!" He shouted, "BRING IT DOWN!"

Èowyn was fastest. She launched a spear right at the Mûmak's hind leg. The projectile hit the beast and buried deep into its flesh. The beast roared out in pain and its legs gave out, making it fall hard on its buttocks.

The impact made Windfola scared though and it reared up too. However, with the collapsing Mûmak near them, the horse befell a similar fate as the beast and it crumpled to the floor.  
Merry was flung off, while Èowyn still clung to her steed. With a dry _oomph_ she let go of the bridles as she hit the floor with full force. Stars began to dance in her vision, but she could still see enough to realize that the downed Mûmak was collapsing further- towards her. She only barely scrambled away to avoid it crushing her, but then she realized that she was alone.

"Merry!" She called out frantically. "Merry!"

Théoden rode past her nearby, drawing her attention. He stopped and whirled a sword, slashing through one of the Haradrim who tried to target him with his arrows. Èowyn felt her heart stop for a second when an Orc approached her uncle, axe lifted to strike him down. She couldn't allow this.

Forgoing the search for Merry, she shot to the front and stabbed the Uruk into the back, downing him. She swung around, catching another Orc nearby and fighting him. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed the strange expression on her uncle's face.

Did he just recognize her? She was still wearing her helmet, wasn't she?

Théoden's head whipped around as he heard a sound, then he whirled back to strike the Uruk down Èowyn was just fighting before he rode off.

She heard a cough behind her, witnessing how Merry stumbled into her line of vision from behind the downed Mûmak. She lost sight of him quickly though as a group of Haradrim ran towards her. She had to fight them off and couldn't take care of the Hobbit. But once she finished with her foes and turned back around, her blood ran cold as she saw how an Orc grabbed the Halfling roughly on his collar. Merry struggled and fought back, stabbing his short blade into the Orc's body.

"Merry!" The shieldmaiden was about to run to help him, when she was suddenly stopped by an Orc. He turned to face her with a sneer and for a short moment, Èowyn compared his face to a potato. But then she realized how _hateful_ he stared at her and she lifted her sword, ready to defend herself.

Just that she didn't need to. In the very moment the Orc lunged at her, a black... _something_ broke through his chest. The Orc gargled as he was dragged back. A pale hand closed around his throat, holding him aloft.

"Found you", the attacker purred and Èowyn sharply sucked in air. It was the creature called 'Alex Mercer' who had accompanied Aragorn. She hadn't recognized him first, for his clothes were unfamiliar to her, but the clearly perceptible aura of blood lust was what gave him away. He hadn't noticed her yet, instead had his entire focus on the Orc impaled on his whip-like claw. "Gothmog. I spared you in Osgiliath twice and I spared you when the battle began. Just so you could tell your little friends what awaits them. But now you have no more use to me." He paused, a nasty smirk on his face. "Or almost no more use. You know, I have eaten quite some of your troops, but I'm still peckish."

Tendrils broke from his back, ensnaring the struggling Orc and melted him away within seconds, leaving nothing but a small stain on the grass.

"Tastes like shit", Alex spat as he straightened his back. He paused and slowly turned, eyeing Èowyn. He didn't break gaze as he shot out his Whip-like arm to latch onto Merry and pull him out of the danger zone. "I'm not really surprised to meet you here, Èowyn", the hooded man stated as he set Merry on the ground. The Hobbit was somewhat shaken, but in good health. "I don't think I need to tell you how dangerous this place here is, do I?"

"You want to tell me to hide and wait until it is over?" The shieldmaiden snapped. "I'm sorry to tell you that I won't do this."

"I wouldn't have suggested it anyways. If you want to fight here, it is your thing."

"Thank you", Èowyn replied, "For not believing me to be weak."

Alex grinned at her. "You remind me of my little sister, actually. And believe me, she is feisty and stubborn enough to manage most situations." He nodded towards Merry. "Take care of the short stuff, I have to get back to Minas Tirith." Alex jerked his head towards the White City to emphasize his point. "They're having a Nazgûl infestation there."

But you have to help Théoden!" Merry piped up. "The Oliphaunts are giving us troubles!"

"Oliphaunts?" The hooded man frowned and eyed the giant body next to them. "Those elephant things?"

"They are too powerful for use to take down", Èowyn explained, leaning on her sword. The surge of battle was slowly ebbing off and she felt exhausted. "But you- you can."

"They're big and heavy", Alex noted, "If the ground is just a little bit unstable, they are useless." He turned to eye them. "The Hydra burrows should be enough."

"Those serpents?" Merry noticed, "Can you make them stop the Oliphaunts?"

"I have told them to attack the trebuchets and siege towers, I can't spare them."

"But-"

"-But I can make some more." He walked over to the fallen Mûmak, placing his hands against it. "There's no shortage of Biomass here, after all."

Èowyn fought down the urge to gag when she saw how his hands shivered and changed, turning into worm-like tendrils that dug into the beast's flesh. Immediately, the Mûmak's body began to shift and twist aside and before she could comprehend what was happening, the Mûmak had been transformed into three serpents. They shrieked once and Alex hissed at them. The serpents dove aside and burrowed into the soil.

"That should take care of the elephants", the hooded man stated. "Now if you excuse me, I have to return to the White City." He paused. "Though, I think I should get you a Brawler here, to make sure you don't die on me."

"Whatever you meant with that, we don't need it", Èowyn pointed out. "I can defend myself and I will take care that Merry won't be injured."

"I trust your words", the plague said after a short pause. "Don't make me regret leaving you alone."

"Don't worry", the shieldmaiden gave back. She lifted her sword. "By my honour I will not betray your trust."

"Besides, those snakes do increase their numbers", Merry said, "If they become more, then the Orcs won't have any chances left."

Alex stopped and turned towards them, eyes wide. "They _what_?! The Hydras reproduce?"

"One split into two", Èowyn explained, "Is that bad?"

"It's really bad. It means that they are infecting living tissues by themselves...shit."

"And that is bad?" Merry asked worried.

"It means that we have an outbreak here in the making..." The hooded man furrowed his brows and scowled deeply. "Fuck this", he eventually bit out. "I'll take care of this later. Now there's no time for this." He fixed Èowyn with a glare. "You stay alive, you hear me?"

"I promise", Èowyn replied. "Now hurry. Take out the Nazgûl."

The hooded man nodded and ran off, back towards the White City. Èowyn exhaled shakily and turned to Pippin. The Halfling was frowning at her. "I hope we haven't done a mistake by sending Alex away", he said with a worried voice. "He could have helped us much."

"He has more important things to do", Èowyn stated. "And we have too. Come on, Merry, we have rested enough. Let's slay some more Orcs."

* * *

Èowyn was running to where some of the Rohirrim were. Windfola was gone, but she needed a new steed. Maybe her kinsman would have a spare for her. She was going to fight with the others once more.

Merry had ensured her that he would be safe, he was just going to crouch down near a dead Mûmak and wait it out, he told her. She had urged him to stay nearby at least, so she could take care should something happen to him.

A Mûmak nearby roared out as the ground beneath gave away, causing the beast to stumble into a large hole. The 'Hydras' were doing a good job at keeping the Haradrim busy, allowing the Rohirrim some much-needed space to breathe.

"Rally to me!" Théoden ordered, "To me!" Èowyn leapt over a dead Uruk to follow her King's orders. The Rohirrim were going to re-group and finally begin the charge to clean out Minas Tirith.

However, as she noticed that the atmosphere changed. Something dreadful was heading their way.

A high-pitched shriek drowned out the noise of the battle field. Èowyn felt her heart drop when her uncle slowly turned around, despair and realization on his face as the giant winged beast of the Nazgûl peeled out of the dust.

And it was heading straight towards them.

It was too fast. Èowyn screamed.

It landed on the ground with a heavy impact and had grabbed Snowmane and its rider without anybody being able to react. The giant winged abomination swung around, horse and master still held in its teeth before it brutally flung them away. The shieldmaiden could only watch frozen in horror as her uncle and his steed bounced off the ground a few times before stopping.

The winged beast then approached them, crawling on the ground like a lizard. Its foul stench and deep growls drove the Rohirrim's steed into a panic and chased them away, leaving no-one to protect the King.  
Èowyn didn't even think as she ran to where her uncle has fallen, cold panic digging into her heart as she heard the Wraith speak.

" _ **Feast off his flesh"**_

She had to protect the King! She had to protect her _uncle_!

The monster opened its jaws to swallow its prey, but Èowyn jumped in front of Théoden, sword and shield up. The beast pulled its head back in surprise and glared at her, growling angrily that somebody dared to disturb its meal. Èowyn swallowed hard, but she wouldn't let this monster near her uncle.

"I will kill you if you touch him", she threatened, albeit her voice was shaking badly.

" _ **Do not come between the Nazgûl and his prey"**_ , the Wraith snarled. His voice made a shiver run down the woman's back, but she wouldn't step down.

She wouldn't let him anywhere near her uncle.

The winged beast roared out and snapped at her, but Èowyn easily side-stepped and dropped her shield. With an outcry, she slammed her sword down on the beast's neck, again and again and again. The creature roared in pain and jerked back, its head falling victim to gravity as it thudded to the floor.

The Wraith shrieked in shock when the winged monster flailed akin to a chicken without head and fell over, its body twitching and flailing for a few long moments.

Èowyn used that time to pick her shield back up and prepare herself, watching how the Nazgûl straightened his back. He held a long sword in one armoured hand and looked positively unhappy about the whole affair. When he slowly turned to face the woman from beneath his crown, Èowyn had to realize that he also had a really big chain mace on him too. She swallowed and her knees went weak, but still stood her ground. That thing looked as if it could snap a tree in half.

' _Better not get hit by that.'_

The Wraith screeched and flung his mace at her. Èowyn dodged, knowing fully well that she really wouldn't want that thing anywhere near her body. She side-stepped the overhead swings and ducked beneath the vertical flails, utilizing her short stature against the Wraith's towering seven feet.

The Nazgûl shrieked enraged, flinging the weapon at her face, but Èowyn managed to lean back just in time. He swung a second time and she barely ducked beneath the attack, but when he swung again, she was too slow. The mace hit her shield with full force, shattering it. Èowyn fell back against the body of Snowmane, groaning in pain. Her arm felt like it was on fire and she quickly realized that it was broken.

' _From one blow. That guy is strong!'_

As she lied there gasping for air, the Nazgûl approached her with a sneer. He dropped his mace and sheathed his sword before he leaned down and seized her by the throat, lifting her off the ground with no trouble at all.

" _ **You fool. No man can kill me"**_ , the Wraith hissed. Èowyn felt her heart hammer against her ribcage. Her blood was roaring in her ears and her arm _hurt_. The Nazgûl took a rasping breath as he delivered his next words. _**"Die now."**_ His hand closed around her throat, starting to squeeze. Èowyn gasped, but didn't have the strength to pry the Wraith's hand off.

And suddenly, the Nazgûl jerked back and let go, shrieking in pain as he collapsed to his knees. Èowyn coughed and heard a second shout, witnessing just in time to see Merry flail back in pain, holding his arm.

She instantly realized that the Hobbit had sneaked up on the Wraith and stabbed its knee with his dagger, forcing him to kneel.

Anger flared up in her as she stood tall in front of the Nazgûl, sword clenched in her hand. This creature had threatened her uncle, had injured him greatly. He was going to _pay_. In one motion, she swiped off her helmet, ignoring the pain flaring up in her arm and revealed her long blonde hair.

"I am no man", she snarled before she lifted her sword and slammed it right into the Wraith's face. The Nazgûl screeched in pain so loudly that all Mûmakil around them turned tail and moved away, and even the steeds of the Rohirrim fled the place.

Èowyn staggered back as a shockwave shot from his body. Her left arm was burning, her right arm had gone completely cold and all her strength left her. She sagged to the floor, watching in morbid amusement as the Wraith was sucked into itself and crumpled in a heap of misshaped metal and empty robes.

It was done, the enemy was defeated.

Èowyn exhaled coldly and leaned back, staring at the sky. Not even noon yet and she was so exhausted. But she couldn't rest now. Her uncle still needed help.

With great effort, she managed to roll over to her stomach and started crawling around the fallen Snowmane. The horse was already dead and Èowyn feared the worst for her uncle.

As she heard a weak cough, her heart jumped in joy. Despite the pain she was in and despite not being able to use either of her arms correctly, she still managed to crawl around the fallen steed. Théoden stared at the sky with blood trailing down the corner of his mouth. He coughed again and more blood began to flow, this time with little bubbles mixed in it.

Èowyn whimpered as she crawled closer, drawing his attention. When Théoden turned his head slightly, a spark of recognition flitted over his face. He slowly reached out, as if everything hurt, and gently touched Èowyn's face. She shuddered at how cold his skin was.

"I know your face", the King mumbled. A small smile crept on his face. "Èowyn"

The young woman smiled as well, holding his hand as the King drew a shaky breath. "My eyes darken", he muttered, much to her shock.

"No, no!" She whispered, "I am going to save you!"

The King smiled. "You already did", he said weakly. "Èowyn, my body is broken. You have to let me go." The young woman shook her head and tried to crawl closer. "I go to my fathers in whose company I shall not feel ashamed."

The young woman fought back a sob and grabbed his hand harder. Théoden only uttered one last "Èowyn" before his head rolled to the side and his eyes closed.

Èowyn sobbed against his chest, but pain and exhaustion quickly overtook her body. As everything faded to black around her, she noticed that the field became more silent somehow.


	25. The Army of the Dead

**Author: Only five more Chapters to go, then I will rewrite the first seventeen. Woot.**

* * *

The Army of the Dead

 _March 13_ _th_ _, Dawn_

The road to Dimholt was bleak. As far they could see there were only sun-bleached rocks and a few hardy shrubs and trees. Massive cliffs jutted out of the ground on either side of the path, making the group feel trapped. Nothing moved as they rode along. They were completely isolated.

Dawn had passed and now it was noon, the sun was mercilessly beating down on them. There was no soothing warmth in it, only a sharp stinging pain. There was not even a slight breeze allowing them to cool down.

"The horses are getting restless", Elladan noticed.

"We are close", his brother added, "Close to those that are our last chance."

"What kind of army would linger in such a place?" Gimli asked.

"One that is cursed", Legolas explained as the once wide path began turning narrower and steeper. Rubble began covering the ground, making it hard for their horses to progress further. It was as if the mountain itself did not want anybody to come closer.

"Long ago, the Men of the Mountain swore an oath to the last King of Gondor, to come to his aid, to fight." Legolas looked around, watching for any shadow that flit past. "But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them, never to rest, until they had fulfilled their pledge." His eyes moved along the steep cliffs and his voice began to eerily echo off the cliffs around them. "Who shall call them from the grey twilight?"

"The forgotten people", Elladan continued, "The heir of him to whom the oath they swore."

"From the north shall he come", Elrohir finished. "Need shall drive him. He shall pass the door to the Paths of the Dead."

"Doesn't sound ominous at all", Aragorn grumbled. He paused at the lack of echo in his voice. "And how do you make that echo?"

"The cliffs", Legolas shrugged.

"Elf Physics", the twins commented with grins. Aragorn was glad for this little distraction. The very air around here felt as if it was choking him.

"You clearly spent too much time with Alex", Gimli grumbled.

"Only two months in Rivendell", Elladan argued.

"Where is he, anyways?" Elrohir asked, "

"In Minas Tirith", Aragorn explained as he carefully manoeuvred Brego across a slope. "He went with Gandalf and Boromir and Pippin."

"Yeah, we didn't have enough Orcs to feed him anyways", Gimli added with a snort.

"Wait..."

" _What_?!"

The Dwarf was about to reply when suddenly wind howled out, sending shivers down their backs. Aragorn glanced around for any possible threat. There still was nothing alive around them, even if he felt watched. But those that dwell inside the mountain aren't exactly _alive_ , are they?

"The Door to Dimholt", Legolas gasped as they found themselves in front of a portal that was framed by piles of human skulls. The trees that surrounded the area in front of it were all dead black husks only.

Nobody said a word as they dismounted, slowly drawing closer to the black opening in the stone. A cold wind was howling out of its depths.

Gimli shivered. "The very warmth of my blood is stolen away" he mumbled.

Legolas moved his gaze to the carvings above the gate. If it was for any other place, it would have appeared that they had been made by children.

Well, twisted and evil children, but still a far cry from being a true masterpiece of art. "'The way is shut'", Legolas translated the pictures, "'It was made by those who are dead and the dead keep it." He paused. "The way is shut.'"

Suddenly a pained groan howled from within the path. The horses reared up, turning and running away from them. "Brego!" Aragorn called out, but the steed didn't obey him any more.

"Well..." Elladan muttered.

"No way back then, huh?" Elrohir noticed.

"No way back", Aragorn growled. He turned towards the doorway with a determined scowl "I do not fear death!" He bit out and stalked right towards the door. Gimli gasped as he simply walked in. His coat flapped in the harsh wind blowing from the tunnel and the moaning of dead men accompanied him as he vanished in the darkness.

Legolas swallowed, but followed him without falter, followed by Elrond's twin sons.

The Dwarf snorted angrily. "Well, this is something unheard off! Elves will go underground where a Dwarf dare not!" He shuffled his feet uncertainly "Ah, I'd never hear the end of it!" He hurried after his friends.

* * *

The inside of the tunnel was eerily dark. Aragorn had a torch to see at least a little bit, but what he saw was not very encouraging.

And that said something since he's seen one of their companions tear through Orcs and devour them within seconds, leaving nothing but stains.

But here were human skulls and bones, and lots of them. They were stacked upon each other against the walls, leaving only a narrow path for them to walk in.

Elladan and Elrohir made a startled noise as they made the mistake to throw a glance into an alcove that was almost completely filled up with human remains.

"What is it? What do you see?" Gimli asked.

"I see shapes of men", Elladan said. "And Horses", Elrohir added.

"Pale banners like shreds of clouds", Legolas explained as the group slowly followed after Aragorn. The silence around them was daunting. "Spears rise like winter thickets through a shroud of mist." He lowered his voice. "The dead are following. They have been summoned."

"The dead? Summoned?" Gimli muttered, glancing back into the darkness. Shadows seemed to move and melt into each other. He swallowed. "I knew that. Very good." He hurried after his friends. "Legolas!"

Fog began rising from the ground. The air turned colder and also much more oppressing. At some moments, Aragorn had the feeling to try to breathe water.

And then the fog changed, forming grasping hands that reached out for them. Legolas swiped his bow through the spectres, wiping them away temporarily. Elladan and Elrohir both made startled noises as they swiped through the fog to disperse it. Gimli was blowing the spectres away. More hands crawled up on Aragorn's chest, gently stroking over his body. It felt like ice and the Ranger quickly stepped aside, through the spectres to brush them off.

He paused at a distinct _snap_ and looked down. He regretted it quickly. "Don't look down", he whispered. And he meant it. The floor was now littered with skulls and bones. There was no free place to step and each motion they made, created a chilling cracking noise. Other than that, it was ungodly silent, with only their breaths and their steps creating at least some sort of sounds.

It was enough to make Aragorn shiver. But determination and desperation drove him on. They _needed_ those that dwelt here, they needed their strength so they could protect the world of Men from the darkness of Mordor.

"Hurry", Aragorn snapped, "Hurry!"

The spectral hands began reaching out for them once more as the group started running.

They sprinted down the ghastly tunnels, constantly followed by spectres. Aragorn felt his blood hammer inside his ears as the tunnel did a sharp turn. Running across the skulls and bones created a dreadful staccato of steps and the closer they came to the centre of the mountain, the louder the wind howled, carrying the groans and curses of thousands of dead men.

They slowed down once they passed through a narrow opening, only to find themselves in a rather large hall. They stood upon a fog-covered platform, but they did notice that on either side of it the ground gave away for an endless abyss. At the one side of the hall was a massive doorway carved into the cliffs, while the path they were on led past it and deeper into the mountain.  
Light filtered in through the cracked ceiling. Not enough to see properly, but to see shapes and shadows, and to realize that there was nothing living there, only them.

"Who enters my domain?" A ghastly voice rasped. The group whipped around, hands on their weapons as the fog became denser just in front of the carved doorway. It took the shape of a spectre that watched them closely.

It used to be a man at some point, but now his skin was greatly gone, revealing bones beneath. His armour was rotten and his eyes stared unseeing into their direction. His entire body was partially transparent and glowed in an eerie green light. He wore a crown on his head and he waited for them to answer his question.

"One who will have your alliance", Aragorn answered with a strained voice. His hand was twitching to grasp his sword as some sort of defensive manoeuvre. But would it really help against the dead?

"The dead do not suffer the living to pass", the King of the Dead stated with a scowl on his rotten features.

Aragorn pulled his brows together and glared at the spectre. "You _will_ suffer me." He declared darkly.

The King eyed them for a second before he laughed out, his voice a mixture between a wheeze and a demonic cackling. He wasn't amused, he was more or less angered by their lack of respect. Aragorn knew it was a highly risky move when the laughter echoed off the walls of the chamber and turned into the thundering steps of thousands of boots. An entire ghostly city appeared out of nowhere, glowing eerily in the dark of the hall.

And suddenly, a ghostly army flooded out of the buildings like a torrent of green mist. They marched through the air and they marched through walls without slowing down, all while they were chanting in dark voices.

The Companions turned around, to stand there with their backs to each other as they watched the host gather around them.

Thousands of dead men stared at them through unseeing eyes. Their flesh was rotten and their weapons looked cracked, but there was no question that they were more lethal than any army Man had ever seen before.

Aragorn could see how his friends turned pale, but still, all of them held their ground, even as the spectres flooded to surround them, cut them off from any route to escape.

"Fan- _fucking-_ tastic", one of the twins groaned and Aragorn couldn't help but agree.

"The way is shut", the King of the Dead exclaimed with an eerily calm voice. "It was made by those who are dead. And the dead keep it."

More dead warriors appeared around them, now overwhelming them with sheer numbers. Aragorn felt his heart drop and his skin go cold, while his blood turned hotter. Still, he didn't show any of his fear on his face.

The King slowly stepped to the front, his voice dropping to a venomous snarl, "The way is shut. Now you must die." Legolas reacted immediately and shot an arrow at the King, but it phased harmlessly through his head and the soldiers behind him, clattering on the ground behind them. The King grinned at them as he slowly drew his sword from its sheath.

Aragorn narrowed his eyes on the King. This was now the most risky part of the plan. Either the King would obey him, or he would order his men to attack. And Aragorn was certain that his companions would quickly join the ranks of the dead. He growled on the inside and stepped towards the approaching ghost. "I summon you to fulfil your oath!" He declared with a strong voice.

The King scowled deeply, speeding up his approach. "None but the King of Gondor may command me", he snarled and swung his sword at the Ranger. Aragorn didn't bother to doge as he brought up Anduríl, stopping the ghostly blade with a resounding _Clang_. The King of the Dead made a startled gasp as Aragorn forced him to lower the blade. "That bind was broken!" The spectre shrieked. The Ranger snapped out his hand and grabbed the King on his throat and holding Anduríl against his spectral flesh. The King made a startled noise as the blade made contact with him.

"It has been remade", Aragorn growled. He shoved back the ghost, never losing sight of him. The entire army was silent, watching the man. "Fight for us and regain your honour", The Ranger declared. He narrowed his eyes. "What say you?"

The entire ghostly army was silent, watching the Ranger as he made his way through their ranks. Their empty eyes followed him and Aragorn turned slightly, holding Anduríl for all of them to see. "What say you?!" He asked again.

"You're wasting your time, Aragorn", Gimli cut in, "They had no honour in life, they have now none in death."

"I am Isildur's heir!" Aragorn snapped, "Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled!" He locked gaze with the King. "What say you?"

The King of the dead pulled back his mummified lips in a smirk. He let out a ghastly laughter and began to vanish. His entire army faded along with him.

Aragorn felt his heart drop to his stomach. "You have my word!" He cried out, "Fight, and I will release you from this living death!" The dead continued to disappear and Aragorn felt desperation rise up inside of him. "What say you?!"

"Stand, you traitors!" Gimli shouted, but the ghosts now have all but vanished. Even the fog had disappeared completely, leaving only the barren ground.

Legolas' head snapped around and he narrowed his eyes on the massive doorway the King of the Dead appeared from. And suddenly, the ground shook violently. The companions looked around uncertainly until two skulls rolled towards them, stopping clattering a few feet away from their position.

The gates collapsed in a cacophony of shattering stone and a flood of skulls rushed towards them.

"Oh", Elladan deadpanned.

"Run", Elrohir finished.

"OUT!" Aragorn yelled.

Without wasting any time, they dashed out of the tunnel, heading into the direction they didn't come from. The torrent of skulls and bones swept towards them, nearly pushing them off the ledge. It was like trying to withstand a flood of water, only much creepier. They yelled as they struggled through. They just barely managed to escape into the opposite tunnel when the torrent of skulls began tearing down the rocks around them. In the very last second, the five fled the Dimholt Mountain before everything around them collapsed, forcing them to leave through a cloud of dust.

While Gimli and the twins were coughing to clear their airways, Aragorn stood there with a blank expression. The King of the Dead had still refused to help him, despite being trapped between life and death, leaving him without any help.

He slowly lifted his head as he could see smoke spiralling skywards. It stemmed from the villages along the river that had been ransacked by the black ships that moved towards Minas Tirith.

And Aragorn realized that he had failed.

He sank to his knees, staring at nothing in particular in defeat. He just stared at the ships moving closer to the White City, wondering how he was supposed to stop them now when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Legolas who comforted him with a firm squeeze. The Elf didn't say anything, but the expression on his face told him everything he needed.

Suddenly he heard a sound and the group turned around, witnessing just in time how the King of the Dead phased right through the cliffs of the mountain. He stepped towards them with a determined expression on his face.

"We fight"

* * *

The dozen Black Ships made a fast progress. Not much more and they would reach Minas Tirith. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and the Twins stood at the shore, watching the first of the ships pass by.

"You may go no further", Aragorn called out. He got the men's attention immediately. One of them jumped up and ran to the railing, staring at the Ranger. Aragorn narrowed his eyes. "You will not enter Gondor."

The Corsairs stared at each other before they burst out laughing. The bosun sneered at the group. "Who are you to deny us passage?"

Aragorn didn't change his expression. "Legolas", he said, getting the Elf's attention. "Fire a warning shot past the bosun's ear."

Legolas reached for an arrow and knocked it in, targeting the mast behind the man. Gimli snorted. "Mind your aim", he reminded the Elf, though when Legolas shot, the Dwarf 'accidentally' nudged the bow. Legolas shot off target and killed the corsair just behind the bosun. Legolas stared down at his best friend with wide eyes.

"Oops", Gimli gasped in fake shock. "That's it", he declared, "We warned you. Prepare to be boarded."

"Boarded?!" The Corsairs snapped as their boat sailed past, "By you and whose army?!"

Aragorn arched his brows and tapped his sword against his shoulder.

"This army", he declared coldly.

The air shimmered just behind him as the King of the Dead pulled himself out of thin air, crying his battle cry when he charged right through the Ranger to race towards the ship. His army appeared right behind him and stormed to the front as well.

The corsairs started screaming in panic as the Ghosts simply crossed the water and targeted the ships.

Aragorn smirked in grim satisfaction.

Who knew that screaming corsairs were so satisfying?

* * *

 _15_ _th_ _March, early noon_

The Orc leader Yamarz growled at the slowly approaching ships.

Humans! Maggots! Pirate Scum! Why in the name of Mordor did the Master work with weaklings like them?

He scowled unhappily. He'd rather be on the Field of Battle and kill some humans, but Gothmog told him to wait for the pirates.

Gormless Gothmog! Why did the Master make him the Leader of the army? Gothmog was ugly and stupid. Unlike Yamarz. Yamarz was clever and better-looking than Gothmog.

The Orc snorted and spat on the ground. When this war was over, he would go and kill Gothmog for making him wait here for some pirate scum and not allow him to battle.

He really wanted to kill some humans and burn their city. And he really wanted to see this so-called 'Demon'. Gothmog had said that it attacked them in Osgiliath days before the siege begun. It turned tail and ran away, though, Gothmog said. Yamarz really wanted to see a demon, cowardly or not.

He wondered whether it was the demon's fault that he smelt so much Orc blood coming from the city, after all, humans can't do that much damage to his brethren.

Humans are weak and pathetic. Yamarz couldn't understand why the Master wanted _pirates_ to fight with them.

He turned that thought over in his head as he watched the dozen ships stop at the port. Oh well, they'll make for decent distraction and emergency rations, at the very least.

Yamarz moved to the front when nothing moved on the ships. _'Shouldn't there be more activity?'_

He picked up his voice so those lazy maggots could hear him. "Late, as usual!" He snapped, "Pirate Scum! There is work that needs doing!"

Nothing moved on the ships and Yamarz felt irritated and angry about the lack of discipline those pirates showed. "Come on, ya sea rats!" He bellowed angrily, "Get out of your ships!"

And then something moved. A single man vaulted over the railing and landed in front of the ship, steel eyes blazing angrily.

He was clearly no pirate. Nor were the four that followed him. One was a stupid Dwarf and three were stinking Elves. All five of them scowled at Yamarz and his men, weapons ready.

The Orcs were silent, eyeing the group. Yamarz couldn't tell what was going on. Was this some sort of joke? Did those pirates dare to jest with the Master?

His eyes met those of the Man and Yamarz realized that those guys were planning on _fighting_ them. Five men? Against his one hundred Orcs?

Yamarz laughed out loud and his men followed his example.

Pathetic humans and Elves! They really thought they had a chance?

They laughed even harder when the small group started moving towards them. The man, especially, was glaring at them as if he wanted to murder them on his own.

It would be even funnier if it wasn't so feeble.

The Dwarf looked at one of the Elves. Yamarz heard him speak "There's plenty for both of us. May the best Dwarf win."

And suddenly, Yamarz felt something wicked stirring. He saw the enraged glare of the human as he sped up his stride and grabbed his sword harder.

And Yamarz wasn't laughing anymore.

The Man let out a wordless shout when suddenly something appeared behind him. It was green mist that took the shape of thousands of men and horses, and they were armed.

And they stormed to the front, passing harmlessly through any sort of object that was nearby or crossed the water as if it was solid ground.

Yamarz and his men fell back, staring in horror as the spectres flooded towards them in a tidal wave of swords and spears. The Man screamed out and the ghost charged to the front.

The Orcs stumbled back as the army hit them.

The last thing Yamarz saw before the Man loped off his head was a giant green tidal wave of dead soldiers charging straight over his men, butchering them. Their swords passed through their shields and armours and cut deep into the flesh beneath.

The last coherent thought he had before everything turned black was the realization that the war was lost.

* * *

The five of them were moving closer to the city. Lord Elrond's sons were further in the back, shooting down the opposing Orcs. Legolas heard Aragorn yell out in anger, witnessing his friend stabbing through one Orc and punching another one right into the face with so much strength it caved in his face and sent it to the ground. The Elf smirked. The son of Arathorn truly had a lot of pent-up aggressions to be let out upon seeing the White City in such a sorry state.

But he had some to let out too. And he couldn't let Gimli win their game.

"Fifteen, sixteen", he quickly counted as his arrows thudded into two Orcs, downing them instantly.

"Twenty-nine!" Gimli called out from besides him. Legolas frowned, shooting down number seventeen. That really wasn't fair. The King's armies and the Rohirrim took out all the opposing forces, leaving barely any for him.

He heard a roar, witnessing just in time to see a group of giant hound-like beasts descending upon a group of Orcs closer to the city. The creatures had dark skin and glowing orange veins all over them. And the way they were effortlessly slaughtering the enemy made the Elf think of their hooded companion. He fought in a similar way: Creating an absolute massacre without any care in the world.

So it was possible that these creatures were here under his orders, right? Just like the Ghosts were here under Aragorn's.

Speaking of Aragorn, the Ranger was close-by, leaping over a fallen Uruk and delivering a devastating overhead-stab to another one, downing it instantly. The Orcs were panicking, Legolas noticed. But they had already been like this even _before_ they arrived with their army of Ghosts. So the Beasts and their companions inside the city had already done a great job in decimating them. He managed to pick off about fifteen more as they moved closer to the city, bringing his count up to thirty-two.

The Elf discovered a small group of five Orcs that tried to assault a single Rohirrim. Legolas narrowed his eyes. This was Èomer, wasn't it? He seemed to have some problems keeping his steed under control, though he had no real troubles keeping the Orcs away from his body. The Elf Prince quickly darted over to where the Rohan warrior was, arrow already ready to take out the first of the attacking Orcs. The ground suddenly shook, forcing him to dive to the side to roll over his shoulder and avoid whatever approached.

It came from _beneath_. And it was _big_.

The soil ripped open, revealing a giant serpent with a two-pronged beak. It bit down on the Orcs and snapped all of them in half with its jaws. Èomer let out a sigh of relief as the serpent retreated into its burrow without harming them. The Rohirrim turned his steed and rode off, presumably to find more enemies or to rejoin his men.

Legolas frowned. He knew this kind of creature, didn't he? He's seen it in Helm's Deep once.

But more importantly, it just took out the Orcs he wanted to take out. Now he had to look someplace else.

"Legolas!" Aragorn called out, getting his attention. The ground shook with heavy steps and the Elf turned around to witness a Mûmak stomp towards him.

' _Challenge accepted!'_

Legolas ran towards the beast. It saw him coming too and swung its trunk to swipe him away, but the Elf was naturally faster. He leapt up and clung to its tusks, easily avoiding the club-like trunk trying to hit him. Just as the Mûmak moved its left front leg forwards, the Elf leapt off the tusk and clung to its ankle, holding on to the many arrows that stuck there. Legolas exhaled once and pounced off his perch to grab the arrows buried into the Mûmak's knee. The beast roared in anger, but it couldn't turn around and stop the Elf. Also, the Haradrim hadn't noticed him yet, so Legolas could easily climb up the beast's hind leg. He pulled himself up on its hips and steadied himself, targeting the Haradrim inside the tower.

"Thirty-three" He counted, "Thirty-four"

A Haradrim leapt at him, only to be picked off out of mid-air. "Thirty-five." Another jumped out, right behind the other so Legolas couldn't shoot him in time. Instead he grappled shortly with the man and effortlessly flung him off the Mûmak. _'Thirty-six, maybe thirty-five and half or something, in case he didn't die'_ The Elf thought. Another one jumped at him and subsequently fell to his doom when Legolas simply ducked aside.

The Elf Prince grabbed a hold of a loose piece of rope and swung down to the right side of the Mûmak, swinging for a moment in mid-air until he managed to steady himself. He pulled out his Elvish dagger and hacked away at the belts keeping the tower tethered to the Mûmak. The Haradrim screamed in terror as the entire tower tilted to the side and slid off the beast, and Legolas used its weight to pull himself back to the back of the Mûmak. He watched the construct shatter on the floor. _'I guess there were about ten to twelve men still inside'_ , he assumed, _'Which would bring me up to forty-seven to forty-nine.'_

He pulled out two arrows and went up to the Mûmak's head, aiming them right at the junction between skull and neck. He shot them both at the same time and the beast bellowed in pain. It staggered and fell to the front and Legolas used its momentum to gracefully slide down its trunk and jump off, just to stand in front of Gimli.

' _So the Mûmak had moved in a circle'_ , Legolas mused as he watched with satisfaction the range of emotions running over his best friend's face as Gimli struggled to find words.

"That still only counts as one!" He snapped eventually.

Legolas grinned. "Of course it does. But I still get a few bonus points for the multi-kill back when I dropped the tower."

The battle field was getting more silent. Aragorn killed off two Orcs at once before he finally stopped and took several deep breaths to calm himself down. He was exhausted, but his determination was still burning strong. But his strength wasn't needed anymore. The group watched with satisfaction how the Ghosts continued to flood over the entire field, slaying Orcs and Mûmakil with no trouble at all.

Like a torrent of green spectral mist, they flooded inside the White City, taking out more Orcs there.

Legolas realized that the war was won.

Minas Tirith was safe. And Sauron's armies were beaten.

All that remained was to clean up.


	26. Minas Tirith saved

Minas Tirith saved

The field was eerily silent.

Any last remnant of the Orc army was currently being swarmed by the Ghosts or the Rohirrim- or by other creatures. Aragorn narrowed his eyes as he witnessed a giant spiked hound pounce on a fleeing Uruk to violently tear through his flesh and devour him. The Spectre that just tried to charge the Orc had stopped abruptly, seemed to frown for a second before turning and running somewhere else.

The Ghosts didn't attack the Beasts...but why?

"They are not truly alive, so the Dead can not harm them", a voice spoke up. Aragorn turned to witness Gandalf approach him. The Wizard looked slightly battered, but was in good health otherwise. Boromir and Pippin were with him and there was a third man. He did look a lot like Boromir, only younger.

The Hobbit and the two Men watched in stunned silence how the spectres charged across the Pelennor Fields, while Gandalf had his brows arched in surprise.

"You truly are going to be the greatest of Kings", the Wizard claimed, watching the Ghost army slowing down once there wasn't a single Orc left alive. "You called upon those that betrayed Isildur and they followed your summon- a feat unknown of until now." He nodded his head. "Yes, the tides are turning. Sauron is losing ground."

"But he will return", Boromir pointed out darkly, "And then he will level Minas Tirith."

"Not if Frodo manages to destroy the Ring before", Pippin declared.

" _If_ ", another voice spoke up. They turned to see Alex stalk towards them. He was bloodstained and dressed in his short leather jacket. He seemingly didn't care about the splatters on his body, though. " _If_ Frodo manages to destroy the Ring." He frowned at Aragorn. "We shouldn't deal with 'ifs' here, Aragorn. We just beat Sauron in Gondor, we should go and stomp him into the nearest curb _now_."

The Ranger frowned. "We can't", he said. "The men are tired and injured and we have to bury the dead first, make sure the city is safe before we can even think of trying something as foolish as this. Not all of us are as indestructible as you are." He shook his head. "We can not rush this, Alex."

The hooded man growled low and his eyes flashed crimson. Aragorn realized in an instant that he wouldn't accept a 'No' for an answer. "Alex, I know that you want to destroy Sauron, that there is nothing you wish to do more than end this conflict so you can return to your sister; but we cannot challenge him right now." He motioned towards the Field of Pelennor, where countless bodies lay strewn about. Several men were stumbling about, looking for their friends. "They are in no condition to fight, Alex. They need a few days to get their bearings back together and even longer to heal."

"I don't need an army", the plague growled, "I _am_ an army!"

"What will happen if you attack Sauron? Wouldn't he take revenge on us? Wouldn't he send his armies against us while we are still weak?" The Ranger sighed and stepped up to the hooded man, placing his hand on the other's shoulder. "Alex, I cannot risk the people of Gondor for an ill-timed charge. You cannot go into battle. Your mind is still frenzied by battle. Our time will come, but it is not now."

The virus snarled once, but he began to force himself to calm down. "Fine", he ground out with a growl, "I will not attack Mordor. It is a stupid-ass decision, but I will obey it."

Aragorn relaxed in relief, even as he squeezed the plague's shoulder.

"Thank you", he said, releasing the man. Alex stopped him by grabbing his wrist though. "You owe me something", he growled. "If you want to keep me on a short leash, you have to work with me."

"And what is what you wish?"

The virus frowned. "A lot of things actually, but I'll settle for the most obvious one." He jabbed his thumb into the direction of the Ghostly Army. "What in the ever-loving name of Jesus Fucking Christ are these guys?!"

Aragorn blinked. The first thing Alex wanted from him was information about the army he brought?

"The dead of Dimholt Mountain", Isildur's heir explained baffled, "Men cursed by Isildur himself."

"Wait, they are _Ghosts_?"

"Well, yes." Aragorn furrowed his brows. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I can't fucking _see_ them", the virus bit out. He waved his arms around. "They don't pop up on my Infected Vision; I don't hear anything from them other than the whimper of the Orcs they kill and their battle cries; and all I can see on the Thermal Side are cold spots. Hell, they don't even show up on normal vision for me." He paused and scowled deeply, muttering more to himself than anyone else. "Let's just hope Blackwatch never figures out how to get Ghosts working for them."

So that was his problem. He couldn't see the Spectres and thus he couldn't fight them. For a being that was made to be a weapon, it was highly unpleasant, Aragorn assumed.

"So we are at a draw", a raspy voice spoke up. Isildur's heir turned to see the King of the Dead stand besides them, his army along with him. "For we cannot harm those Beasts or you. You are dead, like us. The Dead cannot harm the Dead."

Alex growled at the King, exhaled once and calmed down again. "But it was pretty awesome, I admit. You cleaned up the entire Field faster than I would ever have hoped to do so, and you also scared the Nazgûl away, so I'd say you did a pretty good job."

"We did what we were summoned for", the King of the Dead declared. "Release us" His voice had dropped into an exhausted sigh. He was tired of his un-life.

"Bad idea", Gimli suddenly threw in. The King snapped his head towards the Dwarf and glared at him. How dare this Dwarf deny him and his men the final rest? Gimli shrugged, nodding towards the Spectres. "Very handy in a tight spot these lads. Despite the fact they're dead."

"You gave us your word!" The King snarled angrily, fists balled together.

"And I hold your oath fulfilled", Aragorn said with a grateful voice. "Go. Be at peace."

The King of the Dead blinked at him for a good moment before his features relaxed. With a deep sigh he and his entire army vanished like dust, this time for good.

"It seems you returned to us as the Heir of Isildur, Aragorn, and no longer as Strider the Ranger", Gandalf stated. "Yes, this is the begin of a new era."

Aragorn smiled at the Wizard before he turned serious again. "I thank you for your support, my friends. The battle might be over, but there is still much to be done." He sheathed his sword and turned to Boromir and the other man who he figured was Boromir's younger brother Faramir. "Boromir, can you have your men gather our fallen brethren? Bring all those that are injured to the House of Healing."

"I can do that", the Gondorian agreed. "I shall also call for the healers to ready themselves."

"I will check up on father before I help you in this endeavour", Faramir stated, "I am worried for his well-being."

"You are the only one", Alex scoffed. "But fine, check up on the geezer."

"And what are you going to do?" Faramir snapped, "Gorge on the fallen enemies? Feed your corrupted pets?"

"Prevent an _outbreak_ ", the plague gave back with no emotions in his voice. "This battle fed too much Biomass into the Hydra Lairs in the ground. I don't know how much longer we have until the strain evolves and spreads without my say-so. The Brawlers too, they all carry Blacklight and even if they don't infect at the moment, they will do so later on. It is our biological imperative."

Aragorn blinked. He did understand only half of what the man said, but he got the gist of it. Also, those Beasts were his creations? They could be useful...

"Alex", the Ranger called out, "Can you still control the Beasts?"

"At the moment"

"Deploy them. Have them collect the injured and take them to the healers."

The plague glared at him. "And if your people get infected? Their immune systems are weak, and Blacklight would probably end them."

"I trust you to be able to prevent this", Isildur's heir stated. "I know you can. But we do need those Beasts, for they are fast and strong."

"Fine, I'll have an eye on them then."

* * *

Alex wondered why he was playing along. He really did. It wasn't his place to do something about the injured humans. Hell, he was probably the worst person to go looking to for help. After all, predators and viruses only target the weak, and compared to Blacklight, _everything_ was weak.

And still, here he was, commanding his infected Beasts to find and take care of injured humans.

He slowly moved over the battle field, carefully stepping around fallen humans, shoving Orc carcasses away and past a fallen Mûmak, summoning his Hydras to drag the cadaver away. Why was he even doing this?

 _'Because if you can fucking help people, then you will do so'_ , a voice inside his head said and it sounded suspiciously like Dana. _'Good people always help others. Monsters only care for themselves. And you are a good man, Alex. A little bit psychotic, but a good guy. And in this fucked-up world you are probably the closest thing to a hero we have.'_

Alex scoffed. Dana didn't know anything about him. She didn't even know what he really was. _'And still she knows me better than I do.'_

He sighed. Once he was back home, he would tell her everything. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea, but what else was there for him to do? He just hoped she wouldn't flip out.

"NO!" Alex turned to the panicked voice, recognizing Èomer who ran across the field. He saw the expression of shock and despair on the man's face as he dodged bodies of Rohirrim, horses and Orcs. He dropped to his knees near a dead horse in utter horror, before he began to wail.

Alex blinked. He never believed that a man like Èomer would start crying, but then he realized that he had been in this particular place before...with Èowyn.

The recognition of Èomer's expression hit him like a tank shell. It was the expression of a brother who mourned his sister.

"Fuck!" The virus spat, speeding up to run up next to the Rohirrim. If Èomer noticed his approach, he didn't show it. Instead, he was cradling the unresponsive body of his younger sister, howling in despair. Èowyn's left arm hung limply in the air and Alex quickly realized that it must have been broken.

"Fucking Hell!" The Rohirrim flinched at Alex' harsh words and held his sister closer, staring at the virus as he slid to his knees besides to him. Alex didn't care about him, nor did he care that there was Théoden's body nearby. Èomer himself seemed to be oblivious to the fact that his king was dead nearby as well.

"You said that you can take care of yourself!" Alex snapped, "You promised!" He noticed how the older sibling stared at him with a confused glance, then suddenly grit his teeth in understanding.

"You knew she was here?!" Èomer hissed, hugging the body of his sister closer, "You let her fight?"

"I met her briefly on the field", the virus admitted, "But I didn't know she was here until I killed off that one Orc." Èomer was growling at him, so Alex lifted his hands to calm him down. "Listen, if I had known that she would end up like this, I would have stuck around. But she told me that she would manage this. I believed her."

"You should have!" Èomer bit out, "Protect her! Taken care that nothing harmed her!"

"She wanted to fight and I respect that", Alex snapped back, "She is a strong woman and she deserves whatever she wants." He growled and glared at Èomer, but his expression changed quickly as he noticed the crumpled remains of a robe and armour nearby. There was also the carcass of a Nazgûl mount.

 _'A Ringwraith died here...'_

 _'Hell'_

The Prototype turned back to eye the cold body in Èomer's hold. She had too much armour on her, but he had a suspicion.

Without caring about the startled outcries of the man, he changed one arm into his claw, and seized Èowyn's unbroken limb with his normal hand. Èomer gave a shout of alarm, but Alex easily brushed him off and effortlessly sliced off the leather gauntlet Èowyn was wearing. He frowned at the revealed skin beneath, hearing the brother inhale sharply. Èowyn's right arm was technically unhurt, but it was icily cold. Her skin was blackened from her hand upwards and black veins ran up higher.

And in combination with the dead Nazgûl and the shattered remains of a sword nearby...

"Crazy chick!" The virus ground out.

"How dare you call my sister poultry?!" Èomer snapped, curling his torso over his sister's body to pull her away from the virus. Alex didn't bother letting go of her arm, though he did lower his claw to the ground. He locked gazes with the older sibling.

"She killed a Nazgûl, Èomer."

"A...Nazgûl?" The Rohirrim blinked.

"Black Breath", Alex pointed out the black veins along her arm. "It is a poison that harms anyone who dared to attack one of these Wraiths." Èomer gasped at the mentioning of 'Poison'. The virus pointed his claw over to the crumpled robe. "And over there is a dead Nazgûl. She killed it. Èowyn took out a Nazgûl!"

He got up, dragging the Èomer on his feet too. "Now get Èowyn to the House of Healing. Aragorn will know what to do."

Èomer paused, staring at him with an incredulous expression. "You mean... she's still alive?"

Alex nodded "She's alive, but weak. Now hurry. Help your little sister, Èomer."

The Rohirrim wasted no time to call for his horse. He hoisted his sister into the saddle and climbed up after her. He paused, turning to Alex "Thanks"

Alex nodded. "You're welcome, Èomer."

"But why? Your purpose is to fight, not to help"

Alex thought about it for a moment. "It is because she is your little sister", he admitted. "I have a sister too and I almost lost her once. I don't want you to suffer the same. Now go. Hurry."

The warrior nodded shortly and rode off. Alex paused and turned, eyeing the body of the King of Rohan.

"What a damn shame, Théoden", he muttered as he knelt down next to him, "You were a fine Leader. I know you had some problems, but in the end, you were the one crucial for the victory of this entire battle." He tilted his head. "Let's hope that you'll meet Théodred wherever you go."

He stayed there until Háma and Gamling discovered them. The two men gave a startled gasp as they discovered the King's body. They asked him about what happened, but Alex couldn't tell them anything. He told them to wait for Èowyn to wake up again.

He did help them recover the body by lifting Snowmane a bit off the ground and he brushed off anything they told him. He wasn't interested in political banter anyways.

Instead, he watched Pippin stumble through the remains of the battle with a cloak of Lothlórien grasped in his hands.

"Merry?"

The Hobbit was looking for his cousin, and he was getting more and more desperate. He couldn't find him and all the dead bodies around dropped his morale further.

So Alex sniffed the air once to pinpoint the other Hobbit. He was nearby, just beneath the carcass of an Uruk. The virus hurled the body away and crouched down. "Over here", Merry was flat on the ground, unmoving but alive. Pippin ran over frantically. "Merry!" He called out, "Merry! It's me! Pippin!"

The other Halfling gave a small groan and pried his eyes open. He focused on his cousin's face, blinking exhausted "I knew you'd find me", he whispered.

"Yes"

"Are you going to leave me?"

"No Merry, I'm going to look after you", Pippin promised. Merry made a groan of acknowledgement before falling unconscious again.

"Let's get him to Aragorn too", Alex decided. A Brawler appeared out of nowhere, growling at its master. "Here. He will take you to the House of Healing" He heaved both Hobbits on its back. "Stay with Merry, Pippin."

"I will", Pippin agreed.

The Brawler took off, leaving Alex alone. He furrowed his brows and turned to look for more injured people. And then he had to go to the House of Healing, if just to make sure that none of them would accidentally jump-start an outbreak.

He could sense the virus that was no longer directly connected to his body starting to slip out of his control more and more. He realized that any other infected entity had very well the ability to become stronger than him, to become more dangerous than him.

It was just how Blacklight worked. Adapt. Become. Evolve.

And Alex was aware that if he didn't put his foot down now, then there was the possibility that in near future something like the Supreme Hunter was going to grow from any possible infected individual, be it a Hydra, an injured defender or one of the Brawlers. It would challenge him for his title, but Alex was not going to allow this.

He was going to show Blacklight that _he_ was still the King.

* * *

It was night. The warriors of Rohan and Minas Tirith had just finished piling up every single Orc. They had brought the bodies of the Haradrim away and buried them in a seclude location, away from the city as per Aragorn's and Boromir's orders.

The field was eerily silent with only a few guards still standing at the foot of the pile of Orcs that was slowly burning away. The pyre would burn for the next time and smell really bad, but if that was what they did with their enemy, then Alex wasn't going to say anything.

He had something different to do. His remaining Brawlers were nearby, growling at their master. Alex furrowed his brows. This meant that the virus inside them had continued to evolve and they began questioning his leadership.

Which he would have found remarkably in any other situation, since he had specifically created those creatures _without_ a free will. But right now it was bothersome. Alex had to act fast, had to destroy any trace of Blacklight here in Middle Earth.

Even if it wasn't his world, he still felt responsible for it and he just couldn't doom it to the same fate as Manhattan.

His eyes began glowing as he slipped into the Infected vision, scanning the ground.

Just below him was a massive amount of Blacklight cells. A really massive amount.

This was the Hydra Nest he planted at the beginning of the battle. The Hydras served him well, but now they have outlived their usability.

The Prototype slowly turned and eyed the Brawlers. Suddenly, his Whipfist shot towards them, skewering them through their skulls. Brain matter splattered against the ground as Alex began to consume his creations, adding their mutated strains to his own.

He growled under the strain it took him to compress the Biomass further, then he knelt down and jabbed one arm into the ground, letting the mass flow down towards the underground Hive.

Now connected to the Hydra Nest and the Hydras, Alex turned his attention to the pile of burning Orcs.

The Guards of Minas Tirith jumped back in panic as several huge black spikes shot from the ground and curled around the Orc cadavers, instantly melting them down.

Dead Biomass was near impossible to infect and consume, but it could be broken down and re-used through mechanical and chemical means, just like actual eating.

Alex scowled at the strain it took to assimilate and relocate all this additional Biomass, but it gave him the chance to grab some much-needed elements from the bodies: Nitrogen, water and carbon were all he needed and he found it plentiful inside the bodies.

"Now to the fun part", he grumbled as he mentally gave the order for the Biomass to spread out evenly beneath the ground while also forcing it to create a yellow oily fluid that began coating its surface.

"What are you doing?" Boromir asked him. Alex turned his head to watch the Gondorian move towards him.

"I'm stopping a viral outbreak", the virus replied. "So you guys don't end up as shambling zombies. You're very welcome for it, by the way."

"And how? Are you going to eat all of it?"

"Nah. That would be too much, even for me." He gave one last mental order, the order to destroy its own cellular structure. He winced as he felt how the entire Biomass beneath squirmed and died at once.

"What did you do with the Orc bodies?" The Gondorian asked, oblivious to the tons of dieing Biomass deep inside the earth beneath his feet.

"I used them for their raw materials", Alex replied. Boromir frowned at him. "Raw...materials? Like Bones...or armour?"

"Like the chemical elements", the Prototype replied. He and Boromir were slowly walking towards a large hole in the ground. Boromir gagged once as the stench of rot and decay hit his nose. Alex gave him a sympathetic glance, but said nothing.

"Chemical...elements?" The Gondorian managed to croak out.

"The stuff a body is made of", the virus explained. "I'm using it for different purposes." He grinned. "Three carbon atoms, five hydrogen, nine oxygen and three nitrogen. Do you know what this makes?"

"...I have no idea what you are talking about", Boromir deadpanned.

"Boom", Alex grinned. He took the torch from Boromir's hand and dropped it into the hole in the ground.

The entire field shook with the sound of muffled thunder. Men were thrown off their feet, walls groaned and horses reared up. A giant part of the Pelennor Fields suddenly caved in, dropping several feet into the ground. People screamed in shock and everywhere in Minas Tirith torches were lit. The guards and civil population ran around like headless chicken.

"What was that?!" Boromir shouted as he struggled back upright, "What have you done?!"

"Boom", Alex said again. "Very large boom." He sighed and crossed his arms. "Though I really wish I'd have it done at the surface. It would have been a glorious ball of fire. Large enough to be seen in Mordor. I bet Sauron would have wetted his pants."

"Why are you doing this?"

"To stop an outbreak, duh."

Boromir shook his head. "No. Not that. This whole _Boom_ thing. Why?"

The Prototype paused and frowned at the man. _Why?_

"I believe it is..." Alex thought about the right words. He never really tried to find a reason _why_ he did things. He just did them, some because of an inner drive, others out of his own twisted sense of justice or over protectiveness. Other things he did without questioning them. Like blowing stuff up. He just liked the loud explosion, the heat rushing over his body, the sight of fire. But he didn't think about the reason.

"You do it...because?" Boromir asked him.

"I don't really know. I just like it." Alex furrowed his brows when another thought came to mind. One he never really considered. "But maybe it is because I'm confused as fuck."

"Confused?"

"Sauron is the last enemy standing between me and Dana. I am going to end him, but Aragorn's right. I can't just barge in there. Not without endangering the people of Minas Tirith. I would not put it beyond Sauron to try to charge a surprise attack. Even if I take him out, his armies are still alive, still kicking. Cutting off the head of a snake doesn't do it. You have to kill it completely. But then I question myself _why_ I am _not_ doing it. Why should I care what happened to you? Just because I stuck around you lot for seven months?"

Boromir watched him as if he suddenly understood. "You are worried. For us."

"Maybe. Maybe I don't want you guys to be hurt. I have no idea why, since people normally are my food." He growled unhappily. "You don't understand it. I feel _confused_. I am not supposed to be confused. I am just supposed to act, to do whatever I was made to do."

He pushed his hands into his pockets, scowling at nothing in particular. "I believe that is why. When I feel confused, I just flip a switch. The only thing to override this feeling is by letting out my frustrations in sudden burst of violence. A group of Blackwatch soldiers, a compound, a Hive, even a crowd of civilians- anything was fine to override the confusion. Then I feel better."

Boromir arched his eyebrows at the revelation. "Have you...ever considered _helping_ people?"

Alex blinked at him, urging him to continue.

"All this knowledge you have, all this power...You are only using it for yourself. Why don't you use it for somebody else? Protect people instead of harming them. Fight wars no-one else can fight. Destroy the darkness that plagues your home." The Gondorian crossed his arms, eyeing the sentient virus. "Maybe it will help you to understand humans better. Maybe it helps you understand yourself better. You are not human, but you can be so much more."

* * *

Aragorn and the healers of Minas Tirith worked overtime to help everybody. There were many losses to be mourned and even more were injured, some even critical.

Isildur's heir wasn't entirely sure whether they would survive the night, but he was doing his best.

Somebody nearby shouted out in pain.

"If you don't shut up with all that screaming, I will silence you, you hear me?!"

Aragorn grimaced. Right. Alex had come here just the day before and had asked him whether he could help. He claimed he had been a doctor before and he had enough medical knowledge from his time in Manhattan. In this way he could also check up on the injured men for any trace of the Blacklight virus. Seeing the lack of healers, Aragorn agreed to it, especially after Alex had eventually admitted that it had been Boromir's idea.

Aragorn didn't regret his choice since the hooded man really was extremely skilled in fixing up injured people. It was just that his bedside manners were more or less non-existent.

The Ranger winced at the sound of somebody screaming and struggling. Aragorn just rounded the corner to see the healers of Minas Tirith shy away from the black tendrils that coiled around a panicked man on a low bed. He struggled for a moment before his body slowly went slack.

"You didn't kill him, did you?" the Ranger asked the sentient virus. Alex scowled at him and straightened the white coat he had changed into instead of his grimy leather jacket or the Middle Earth Ranger appearance.

He wasn't even wearing a hood and he had a small name tag in front of his shirt reading _Alexander J. Mercer, M.D._

"I didn't", he explained. "I just took him in a chokehold to make him pass out." He scowled at the leg of the man that was in a very wrong angle. "One would believe that for a guy who took an arrow to the shoulder and who dislocated the other shoulder while still killing of a bunch of Orcs, he wouldn't be so squeamish about me putting his leg into the right position for it to heal correctly."

"The heat of Battle removes a lot of pain", the Ranger explained sagely.

"Adrenaline surge, I know. Still, doesn't make me dislike stupid people any less."

There was a hollow crack as Alex twisted the leg back into the right position that made the healers wince in sympathy for the man now unconscious on the bed.

"I have been looking for you, actually", Aragorn pointed out.

"Mhm?" The plague hummed, splinting and wrapping the man's leg.

"Boromir and Faramir want to have words with you. They're waiting outside."

"Fine", he shrugged and turned to the healers. "And that is how you splint a broken leg so it grows back together without crippling its owner."

Aragorn and Alex left the room and walked down the hallway where the sons of the Steward were standing.

"We want to see father", Boromir stated. "We are worried."

"And we want to know from him who struck him down."

"Nobody 'struck' him down", Alex exclaimed, "He suffered a _stroke_."

"And...that is different in how far?"

"It is his own brain that shut him down, not somebody from the outside." The virus shrugged. "And when I checked him over, I discovered that his heart beats erratically."

"And...?"

"Denethor suffered from a heart attack. The lack of oxygen also affected his brain so he fell unconscious for a while and the grey matter of his brain began to deteriorate. Not enough to instantly kill, but to shut down his other systems bit by bit." He frowned at the siblings. "He's going to die sooner or later."

"Then let us go to see him", Boromir requested.

"It sounds-" Aragorn was cut off when he heard a pair of feet shuffle towards them. Èowyn appeared from a doorway, steadying herself against the wall. She was pale and her arm was splinted and bandaged as well, but she was quite determined to walk around without help.

Not that Aragorn or Alex allowed her.

"You should be in bed", the virus reminded her.

"You shouldn't walk around so shortly after suffering from the Black Breath", Aragorn added.

"I was thirsty", Èowyn explained with a small frown, "And Èomer was nowhere to be found. Or you. Or any of the healers."

"Allow me", Faramir cut in. Aragorn had to take a double take once he saw the goofy grin on the younger sibling's face. He understood immediately and turned to his other two companions, who only blinked in a lack of understanding. "Let us go and see Denethor", Isildur's heir commanded, shoving both men down the hallway. "Faramir will catch up to us later. I'm sure."

* * *

 **Author: Bonus Points to whoever figures out what Alex did with the additional Blacklight Biomass**


	27. Declaration of War

**Author: This is a rather short chapter, but I'd like to clear up some things that seemed to bug you.  
**

 **First: Congratulations to magical fan18 and Xivitai for figuring out how Alex got rid of the Biomass: Nitroglycerin. Nitro can be made from everything a human body consists, and Alex can easily revert and recycle anything he gets his hands at. He couldn't eat all of it to remove it (though he did add parts of it to his body to check up on the new strains it developed) so he blew it up. Alex likes things that go boom.**

 **Second: Zantetsuken: Why the hell would he create human limbs for people who lost theirs? Even if his flesh can imitate human tissues, it is still highly infectious Blacklight Biomass. The whole point was to remove it so Middle Earth doesn't suffer an outbreak like Manhattan did. Also, Alex is only using his medical knowledge to fix up the injured people. Because he is bored. And anything short of going right into Mordor wouldn't entertain him really.**

 **I kind of split this chapter a bit. First what happens later, and then how it actually began, so heads up.**

* * *

Declaration of War

 _23_ _rd_ _March, early dawn_

Alex stood at the top of a massive cliff, glaring down at the wastelands beneath him.

There was nothing around, only dead rocks and bleached soil. There weren't even lichens on the boulders. The presence of Sauron had decimated all types of life in this region.

The virus narrowed his eyes, watching the desolation for anything to replenish his Biomass. He would even try to chow down a shrubbery should he find one, but the lack of living organisms only fed his frustration. It might have been a mistake on his side to destroy that much already present mass when he eradicated the large Blacklight Hive beneath the Pelennor Fields, but that couldn't be helped now. It was necessary to prevent an outbreak from happening.

He tore his glare away from the blank ground and towards the only source of Biomass in this region: The Black Gate.

He growled under his breath when his senses picked up the crowd of Orcs and Trolls that occupied the northern entrance to Mordor. There were well about one hundred individuals stationed here, making it larger than a regular Blackwatch Base.

But Alex wouldn't attack them. He had promised Aragorn to just throw a quick glance at the defensive side of this place before rejoining the host. And say whatever you will about Alex, he _never_ breaks a promise out of free will.

He snorted once and kicked off the cliff to jump closer to the walls.  
The Gate itself was massive, standing at 60 feet height and 250 feet length and each of the gate wings were at least ninety feet in length from the total. Alex calculated their weight, the speed of which the doors would swing open- based on the amount of Trolls used here for operating the heavy machinery- and he checked for any obvious weak points one could employ to sabotage it.

He kept low to the black rocks he was on, his dark Armour allowing him enough camouflage to stay undetected by the two giant Watch towers that jutted out of the ground on either side of the Gate. It would be so easy to just go in and start feeding on the Orcs there, but then he would shoot down Aragorn's plan. Even if he began with Stealth Consuming, somebody was bound to notice the missing guards. Orcs weren't the sharpest knives in the drawer, but even they had enough brains to call for reinforcements should their numbers dwindle from unknown reasons.

So no snacking on them.

The Prototype frowned at them, frustrated that he couldn't do something.  
He paused, eyes slowly moving towards a series of large boulders just above the Gate.

Well, Aragorn didn't allow him to go down there, but what if there was an unlucky accident? A freak rockslide?

Alex grinned and _accidentally_ brushed against the largest boulder. It started rolling, hitting other rocks and taking them with it as it tumbled down into the valley.

He watched with glee as the rocks smashed into the defences and took out at least one of the Trolls and a large amount of Orcs.

' _Well, my job here is done, let's get back to Aragorn.'_

The rocky floor beneath his feet shattered as he turned west to run along the Ephel Dúath mountain range, leaving the Black Gate behind.

Not even half an hour later, he turned south, preferring to stay up on the mountain's back to keep just in plain view of Mordor. Sauron was supposed to be able to see him should he ever think about looking into his direction. It was just enough to make him understand that Alex was there, that the virus was going to go through with his threats. Just enough to make the Dark Lord wonder how much longer he had before the Blacklight entity would descent upon his throne, tear him to shreds and eat whatever was left.

Alex never realized how much he _loved_ playing with his enemies' fears.  
Maybe he should try this on a Blackwatch Base someday. Just to see how fast they'll lose their cool and turn into a bunch of paranoid idiots.

(But then again, were there even any of those men left that made his life a living Hell? Most of the soldiers he ate just did their jobs, after all)

The Prototype stopped atop a particularly large mountain, gazing over the dark wasteland that was Mordor. From up here, he couldn't see individual Orcs or armies, just blank dark plains and strongholds nestled into valleys.

And somewhere down there was Frodo with Sam, trying to destroy the One Ring. Alex couldn't sense them anyways, not at this distance. He was pretty sure he could track them should he find a track, no matter how old, but he would need to be close.

He shook his head and turned his head to the land of Ithilien. The land lay on the other side of the mountain range, covered in green lush prairies and forests, with rivers glittering in the sunlight.

' _Quite a difference'_ , he thought, ' _Decay and life so close to each other, separated only by some miles of mountain range. Good and Evil in plain view.'_

He snorted in amusement. Good and Evil were such easy terms, like Black and White, but Alex knew that life was made of grey tones. Good and Evil do not exist in real life, it's just a matter of the own point of view. And he preferred thinking in terms of 'guys that need to die' and 'guys that deserve to live'. It made his life much easier.

Hunger twisted his insides, making him stop for a moment. He scowled unhappily. He really should try to grab something to eat before he rejoined Aragorn to prevent sitting on hot nails when inside the army.

Alex' Biomass levels had dropped considerably from his constant neglect to consume in Minas Tirith and his high-speed movements during the last time. His reserves had been reverted to raw energy required for his physics-defying ways of motion.

Even the mighty ZEUS still had to obey to some of the rules of biology and physics, just not on the same level as other living beings.

And that meant he had to feed on something before he dove back into battle, just so he wouldn't burn himself out.

 _Minas Morgul_

His lips curled up into a smirk. Aragorn never said anything about _not_ attacking this place. After all, they were going to attack at the Black Gate, and not Minas Morgul. And if he wrought some Chaos there, Sauron would turn his gaze away from the Gates, giving Aragorn and the other the chance to throw the first punch.

Alex smirked and sped up, heading further south. He was aware that the Heir of Isildur and the army he had gathered must had already left Ithilien and were now on the best way to head to Morannon. But he still had time enough to grab a few bites to eat and replenish his Biomass before the battle would begin.

And if he didn't manage to run fast enough on foot, well, he could still utilize the Fellbeast shape he obtained from the Ringwraith's mounts.

He doubted he'd need it though. Aragorn wouldn't start the party before he was present.

He kicked off the ground and shot through the air for several long seconds before he hit another part of the mountains.

Minas Morgul really sounded promising.

* * *

It was somewhere around afternoon when Alex finally reached the peaks overlooking the dark city of Minas Morgul- Once a stronghold of Man, now a place for Orcs to strike from. It wasn't coincidence that this was the location Mordor's armies came through when they marched for Minas Tirith. Actually, it had been Boromir's suggestion to go through here to march for Barad-Dûr, but when Aragorn reminded them that this whole thing was to keep Sauron's gaze _away_ from Frodo, they agreed on assaulting the Black Gate, which was almost directly opposite of Mount Doom.

It was a longer way to get there, though, but none of the men had complained.

And it also gave Alex the chance to clean out the city of Minas Morgul.

With a hungry gaze, he began to climb down the mountain he was on, but stopped for a short moment when the wind that blew from the bottom of the cliff carried a familiar scent with it.

It smelled of Frodo and Sam- and Gollum. The track was a few days old already and Alex had no great desires to follow it, but it did confirm his suspicions that the Halflings had managed to enter Mordor, most likely with Gollum's help.

But there was something else that caught his interest: The smell of blood.

And blood usually meant weakened prey, just ripe for the picking.

The Prototype smirked unpleasantly behind the faceless plate of his Armour as he lowered himself onto a narrow ledge and turned towards an opening in the cliff.

Human appearance or not, the Blacklight virus was still a predator. And predators always go for the weakened prey first. If anything, it would serve as the first course to a large meal that awaited him

Alex snorted as soon as he put a foot inside the cavern. Frodo's and Sam's smell was mostly covered by the stench of decay coming from within the passage and that meant that there was something lurking that fed on living prey.

The virus grinned. Just like him, then? Oh well, let's see what this predator was compared to him. Maybe he could add some of its genetic structure to his own.  
Inside the cave everything was pitch-black, but this wasn't any problem for something like him. He moved along effortlessly, using the sound and the echo of his own steps to gather information of his surroundings. It wasn't that he could use his eyes anyways when hidden behind his shell, even if parts of his body glowed eerily in the darkness and allowed for some illumination.

As he ventured deeper, he soon noticed bones and half-decayed carcasses strewn about. And there were also a lot of cobwebs. Big cobwebs.

Alex paused and frowned at the cobwebs. Here he imagined he was hunting some sort of creature unknown to his world, something like the Watcher in the Water or the Balrog, when all he found here was just a spider.

So he turned back and was about to leave and get some real food, when he was stopped by the distinct skittering of insect legs on stone. When Alex slowly lifted his head, he noticed a giant shape sitting just above him on a ledge. It didn't move, but he knew that it was watching him.

It was a normal spider as far as he could see. Just the size of a military Humvee. And it probably had the weight of one too.

The Virus inclined his head. Biomass was Biomass, after all, whether it came from animals or people.

' _Oh well'_ , he thought as he shifted his arm into the Blade. _'I can always flush the taste down with some more Orcs.'_

* * *

 _24_ _th_ _March_

Aragorn ordered his Men to get ready even before the sun rose. Just one more day and they would reach the Black Gates. Just one more day and they would see who would win: Man's bravery or Mordor's Evil.

"How are the men faring?" he asked Boromir.

"They are ready, Aragorn", the Gondorian replied with a tense voice.

"Then we march without a break until the sun sets", Aragorn ordered. "We will reach the Gate by tomorrow."

"The scout is returning!" One of the soldiers of Minas Tirith shouted. A murmur went through the ranks of his men when Aragorn turned to watch the heavily armoured shape of their hooded companion drew closer. The soldiers clearly hadn't gotten used to the rather demonic looking shell of their scout.

Alex was only in a light jog when he approached, having already slowed down greatly so he wouldn't bowl the men over. Isildur's Heir arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to stop completely.

"What have you seen?"

"A hundred Orcs operating the Gate alone", the virus replied, "And a giant army marching towards it." He rolled his shoulders and his armour vanished in a nauseating flurry of tendrils. "Sauron is drawing his entire forces to the Black Gate at the moment. We are going to be so brutally outnumbered, it's not even funny anymore."

Gandalf nodded grimly. "We are aware", he stated, "All of the men are aware. Still, we are willing to fight and sacrifice our lives if it has to."

Aragorn saw his hooded companion shake his head. "I seriously don't understand you people. I never will. It's the normal course of action to take cover, not charge head-on into a death trap."

"We do this because it has to be", Boromir explained. "We do this to show Sauron that Mankind is stronger than he believes us to be."

Alex scoffed. "Honour is a fool's prize. Glory is of no use to the dead."

"Then we all are fools", Aragorn claimed. "All of us."

"And I am the one taking care that you don't fuck up completely", the plague stated. He paused, eyeing the mountain range. "I have some good news too. Frodo and Sam had passed the hidden entrance to Mordor. They are somewhere in the lands."

"Then if we are lucky, they will destroy Sauron's cursed Ring", Èomer noted, "Without us needing to fight."

"Don't leave it to luck, Èomer", Boromir pointed out. "Leave it to your skills with the sword." He narrowed his eyes, focusing on Aragorn.

Isildur's Heir nodded. "Forth then!" He shouted, "Let us show Mordor that we aren't afraid of him!"

* * *

 _Several Days before, 17_ _th_ _March_

Aragorn was furrowing his brows as he stood there, watching the Fields of Pelennor from atop the courtyard. He had just left the sick room of Denethor with the knowledge that the steward was not going to survive the coming days.

But there was something else on his mind. Something that ate at his guts and made him feel sick to the stomach.

He couldn't really peg it, but he knew that they still had to do _something_ to help Frodo with his daunting quest.

He didn't turn when he heard steps draw closer. He didn't need to, for he already knew who was coming. After all, the sound of flesh grating against flesh and the distinct lack of breathing was pretty obvious.

"Alex", he greeted as the other stopped besides him.

"Aragorn", the other replied. Both were silent for a while, watching the plains below.

"Listen here", Alex said without wasting any more time, "I'm pretty certain Frodo's already in Mordor. Since Sauron is still alive, I'm afraid the short stuff is having troubles."

"I fear so too", Aragorn agreed. "but what are we supposed to do?"

"Attack them", the plague explained, "Attack Mordor and draw Sauron's gaze to us. Frodo will need all the cover he can get."

"It will be risky. It would be foolish."

"It's foolish to sit around and do nothing."

"I know." Aragorn let out a long sigh. "But how are we supposed to act?"

"The people will follow you", Alex pointed out. "They will follow you whatever you say." The hooded plague turned to face the Ranger fully, icy blue eyes resting on him. Aragorn noticed how the man was taller somehow, having added about half a foot to his total height. "Believe me when I say that you are pretty much _the_ most charismatic and brave man I have ever seen. The people will follow you without question. They will scrape together whatever bravery they have left and they will go with you to Hell and back."

Aragorn blinked, but then his glare hardened. "Then go and get Boromir and the others. They need to hear about this as well."

* * *

Aragorn stood in the throne room of Minas Tirith, eyeing the present companions. Gimli occupied the throne of Denethor, while everybody else stood around. The Twin Elves were present, Legolas, Boromir and Faramir, Èomer and Gandalf. Merry and Pippin too, since both had recovered quickly enough.

"I believe you know why I called you", Isildur's Heir began, "We may have won the battle, but Sauron is still not beaten."

"Then something must have happened to Frodo", Merry noticed. He turned to Gandalf. "Gandalf, please tell us you know where he is."

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight", the Wizard declared grimly, "The darkness is deepening."

"If Sauron had the Ring, we would know it", Boromir grumbled. "So all hope is not lost yet."

"It's only a matter of time until it is destroyed", Èomer replied.

"Or until he gets his grubby fingers on it", Alex growled from his position leaned against a pillar. "We need to act fast before he gets his shit back together."

"We have beaten him", Pippin pointed out, "We have beaten his army."

"He has suffered one defeat, yes", Gandalf stated, "But behind the walls of Mordor our enemy is regrouping. It won't be long until he has gathered his strength. It won't be long until he tries to take over Minas Tirith a second time."

"Lock down the gates then!" Gimli snapped around his pipe. "Have Alex guard the entrance to Mordor and let Sauron stay there! Let him rot! Why should we care?"

"It is because ten thousand Orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom!" Gandalf exclaimed. The present group fell silent at the revelation, staring at nothing in particular. Gandalf was right, Frodo was still somewhere in Mordor.

The Wizard groaned and sat down on a chair, face in his hands. "I've sent him to his death."

"No", Aragorn threw in with a dark glare, "There's still hope for Frodo. He needs time and safe passage across the plains of Gorgoroth." His eyes glinted. "We can give him that."

"How?" Boromir asked.

"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands", the Heir of Isildur explained with a clear voice. "Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

Boromir and Faramir sucked in the air through their teeth. Elladan and Elrohir stared dumbfounded and Legolas frowned.

"We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms!" Èomer finally burst out.

"Not for ourselves", Aragorn agreed. "But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves."

"And slaughter his armies even on his turf, let him know that we mean business", Alex added.

"A diversion", Legolas noticed. "For Frodo?"

The room was silent again until Gimli made a noise in the back of his throat. "Certainty of death. Small chance of success", He summarized. He paused and took a deep drag on his pipe, eyes glinting. "What are we waiting for?"

"Sauron will suspect a trap", Gandalf voiced his concerns. "He will not take the bait."

"Oh. I think he will." Alex stepped towards them and his frame shivered with tendrils. A second later and his chest shifted into an array of black worm-like tendrils that grated against each other, crawled across his flesh and pulled back.

Èomer and Faramir both gagged when the Palantír of Orthanc was dragged out of the not-flesh by several long tentacles with a slurping noise, as if it was an everyday occurrence. Alex ignored their expressions as he held out his hand and let the orb fall into it, while his body became solid flesh and clothes once more. Pippin stepped back in fear once he recognized the huge black orb in the plague's grip.

"We're gonna call that bastard right now", Alex explained with a grin, "And we will tell him that we are coming to fuck his shit up. Nothing is sweeter than telling your enemy face-to-face that his days are numbered."

Like on command, the Palantír flared up and Sauron's burning eye settled on the crowd. The virus took the orb and turned it so the Dark Lord was staring into his icy glare.

"Well, hello there", Alex snarled, "Remember me? I was the guy who told you that I was going to kill you." He held the orb up to his face, locking gazes with the eye. "Now I will go through with my threat." He paused and cocked his head, listening to Sauron's hissed reply without showing any sign of emotions. "Yeah", he replied after a while, "Fuck you too. I'm through with playing nice. Listen, here, shithead. I will come to you and after I finished butchering your army, I will come to your tower and I will kill everything inside. And then I will fucking _eat_ you."

The Eye hissed, pupil narrowing on the virus. Alex merely scoffed made his frame shiver, letting tendrils run across his frame. "Don't think I'm not going to do it. I already consumed your ally Saruman, what is going to stop me from adding you to my collection?"

"And he isn't the only one who will have your head", Aragorn growled, stepping up to the virus. The eye snapped on him, narrowing dangerously. "Long have you hunted me", Isildur's Heir snarled, "Long have I eluded you. No more." He drew his sword and held it in front of the Palantír. "Behold the sword of Elendil", Aragorn growled. "Behold the blade that defeated you once!"

Sauron hissed and his eye widened, but suddenly the image of the burning eye changing to the armoured form of the Dark Lord, then suddenly to a picture of Arwen, dead on the ground.

Aragorn froze at the sight of the image. Sauron just blatantly threatened the woman he loved. Dazed, he stumbled back, half in rage, half in panic while also his pendant fell to the ground, shattering against the marble floor. Alex let out a string of curses as he dropped the Palantír in favour of stepping towards his friend. He seized the Ranger on his shoulders. A group of tendrils snaked out from his sleeves and latched onto Aragorn's head to snap him out.

"Aragorn! Look at me!" He barked, shaking him. "Whatever this fucker told you, it's not true! You hear me? It is not true!"

"I know", the Ranger ground out, forcing his body to calm down, "But the images were so real"

"He's lying! He can't harm Arwen. Not as long you are still up and kicking, ya hear me? That fucker has to get through us first and we will not let him!"

Aragorn hissed and nodded once, his expression turning grim. "We ride at dusk", Isildur's heir snarled as Alex slowly released him. "Boromir! Prepare the men! Everyone who is willing to follow me to the Black Gates shall do so! We will ride through the night to face them at dawn!"

* * *

It was the late noon of the following day. Boromir and Faramir had carried the news of Aragorn's plans through the whole of the city and had watched how six thousand men- Gondorian Rangers, warriors and Rohirrim- had followed his call without fear. Alex had been right when he assumed that Aragorn was the born leader.

The virus had watched with interest how all six thousand men had gotten ready, had prepared their armour and weapons and had bid farewell to their families.

He still didn't understand them. For all things considered, this was an obvious death trap. Nobody knew how many Orcs Sauron had under his control, how many Trolls and worse were going to wait for them in Mordor, yet none of the soldiers backed down.

Alex slowly began to admire them for it. He also began to see the resemblance in the Blackwatch soldiers he fought in Manhattan. They were the same, continuing to assault him even when they witnessed him tear through their men. Maybe humans really were stronger than he believed them to be. Foolish perhaps, but also very brave.

"Faramir, you, Elladan and Elrohir will stay here", Aragorn ordered in the morning hours. "You will take back Cair Andros and make safe Osgiliath, so nobody will be able to cross over."

"Be safe", Elladan said.

"And come back alive", Elrohir added. The Elves drew their adoptive brother into a tight hug.

"Protect the City and father", Boromir told his younger brother. "Make me proud."

"And take care that Èowyn doesn't try anything foolish", Èomer threw in with a serious expression.

"Don't worry. I will", Faramir agreed.

"Alex", Aragorn said, "After we crossed the river, I want you to scout out the Black Gate. But make sure you do not alert Sauron to your presence there."

"Don't worry. Nobody's gonna know I'm there."

"Good."

With the last preparations complete, six thousand warrior set out from the White City with only Aragorn and his companions riding. Isildur's heir rode at the front, donning the white tree of Gondor on his armour. His eyes were burning with determination and the will to do the impossible. Boromir and Èomer were following after him with Merry and Pippin in front of them on their saddles. All four of them were ready for whatever was going to come. Gandalf and Legolas with Gimli followed. And then the thousands of men who would follow their King even to death.

Alex was flanking them, glaring darkly from beneath the shadow of his hood.

It was the same expression he had on his face the day he and Cross set out to capture Taggart to get on board of the _Reagan,_ and also when he went to face Elizabeth Greene in all her glory.

Thinking of Greene only fuelled Alex' intense loathing. He was going to end Sauron's armies just like he had ended hers. And then he would come for Sauron himself, tear him off that throne of his and consume him, just like he did her.

To end this war and finally be able to get home.

* * *

 **Author: Re-uploaded it because of some minor things. I didn't know the soldiers of Minas Tirith did _not_ have horses with them when the went to kick ass.  
**


	28. The Black Gate

The Black Gate

 _25_ _th_ _March_

It was the early morning when the united host of Gondor and Rohan crossed the dead plains of the Morannon. Silence lay like a suffocating blanket over them.  
Alex slowly swivelled his head to glance at the men around him. All he saw were grit teeth, white knuckles from clenching their weapons and shields too hard and rather exhausted-looking faces.

However, judging from their body tension alone, the men were ready. They were ready to fight a battle they knew they couldn't even hope to win.

And it impressed the Prototype.

He learned first-hand how cowardly humans were, he knew that it wasn't in their mentality to face an opponent they had no chance again, but these six thousand here only showed him how wrong he was to assume that _all_ humans were the same.

Thinking back, he did come to the realization that Blackwatch was pretty similar. They too fought an opponent they had no chance against, and they never backed down. Even if they were afraid and hopeless, not a single Blackwatch soldier had ever turned tail and ran. Instead, they had continued shooting at him, hoping to wear him down even when he tore through their ranks and repaired damage done immediately. They had to have realized how utterly useless it was trying to contain ZEUS.

And still they fought on.

Alex glanced at Aragorn who was riding at the very front of the host. The man hadn't looked back once, only giving orders when they stopped to rest for the night.

And still, it was Aragorn's determination that made the others follow him without question. It was Aragorn who made Théoden come to Minas Tirith, and it was Aragorn who got the Dead of Dimholt to fight with him, allowing them to win the battle of the Pelennor Fields.

He really was amazed with Isildur's Heir. The Ranger had always looked for the best solution, had never once considered his own safety before anybody else's, he always knew how to play his allies' strengths correctly- and most of all, he did put up with Alex and his less-than-friendly ways of dealing with everybody. And for that, he deserved the Prototype's loyalty.

Alex wondered if he would have managed to defeat Blackwatch if Aragorn had been their leader and not Randall.

' _If he were, then Blackwatch wouldn't have had to suffer my wrath, since Aragorn's not so stuck-up in the ass. He would've had Blackwatch help me take out Greene instead of standing in my way.'_

The Virus knew he would have acted differently if Blackwatch had tried another approach. After all, the first few days all Alex did was _fleeing_ and trying to avoid the soldiers at all. He only fought when they had cornered him, but never actively tried to harm them. It was only later on when he began to develop and intense loathing for the men in black, even if he still rarely attacked them out of spite. However, he didn't contain his extreme violence once they had sniffed him out again.

But even then he had stopped and left men alive once they were defenceless on the ground, hoping that maybe they would finally get the message and stop hunting him. They never did and he began to become more violent towards them in turn.

If they had just sat down and started to use their damn heads like Cross eventually did, then all of them would have been out of the entire situation with no greater losses of life.

Unlike what Blackwatch thought of the Blacklight virus, he was no senseless monster bent on destroying the world. He would have listened if it was to his benefits.

But Sauron was no Alex. With Sauron there was no negotiation. The only way to deal with the Dark Lord was to stomp him into a stain on the ground.

And this was what the Blacklight Virus was here for. He would go to Barad-Dûr to face the Dark Lord, battle him and try to add him to his Biomass. It would be possible, after all, Sauron was a Maiar, like Gandalf, like Saruman and like the Balrog. Saruman had been edible and the Balrog would have been too, with only its fiery cloak protecting it against being consumed.

Sauron most likely did not have a shroud of fire, making him all the easier to eat. But Alex wasn't going to jump at the Dark Lord immediately. First of, he was going to stick around the Army of the West to destroy the largest part of the Orcish army before he could leave Morannon and just walk into Mordor.

The host stopped some distance away from the Black Gate as Aragorn lifted his hand. Alex moved to the front to stand next to Aragorn and his closest allies, eyes narrowing on the great obstacle.

Nothing moved.

Shouldn't there be some sort of salutation troop? Did Sauron trick them? Send his forces back through (the now empty) Minas Morgul to attack Minas Tirith?

If he did, then the White City was screwed and it would mean that Alex had been discovered while he spied on them not even two days ago. The Virus felt his insides twist angrily at that thought, but his head snapped up when he heard the tell-tale sound of armour clanking and Orcs marching. So they were here, just a bit late, apparently. Good, Sauron is still playing by the rules.

It did calm him down somewhat, and he followed Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, Èomer and Boromir towards the Gates.

"Where are they?" Pippin wondered after a moments of silence. The two Hobbits and Gimli had to share horses with their companions, since they didn't want to be left behind in this last battle.

"It's too quiet", Boromir mumbled, straining his ears.

"They are coming", Alex growled, glaring at the gates as if he could look through it. The others didn't question his statement, only nodded in grim understanding.

Still, nothing moved, even as they stopped in front of the Black Wall. Boromir frowned and looked at Èomer, who only shrugged. Alex furrowed his brows. Maybe he did damage it too much with his _accidental_ rockslide so they couldn't get through? That would be kind of pathetic.

Aragorn furrowed his brows and raised his voice after another moment of nothing happening. "Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth!" He ordered with a scowl, "Let justice be done upon him!"

There was still not a single word from the Dark Lord himself. Alex frowned and turned around, glaring at the host behind them when somebody in the rear struggled to hide a cough.

The loud _clank_ the latch made as it was pulled away made the companions look around nervously. Aragorn focused on the middle of the gate as more clanking and screeching noises filled the air.

Slowly, the Black Gate began to slide open, just enough for a single rider on a black horse rode through.

Every coherent thought Alex had suddenly screeched to a halt as he stared at the Orc that approached them. He wasn't one to judge a book by its cover, but still...

' _This is pretty much the ugliest guy I've ever seen'_. He thought dumbfounded. The newcomer was wearing grotesque armour that hid most of his features from them, except for his giant teeth and black gums which he kept flashed most of the time in a mock threatening gesture.

"My Master, Sauron the Great, bids you welcome", The Orc stated, inclining his head and baring his teeth at them. Legolas swallowed hard at the sight of such unclean jaws, while Aragorn arched an eyebrow. Sauron's negotiator turned his helmeted head towards them, scowling. "Is there any in this rout with the authority to treat with me?"

"I'll show you 'Authority'", Alex grumbled under his breath, glaring daggers at the Orc, "Like my foot up your ass." His companions chose to ignore him, though the negotiator turned his head towards him, snarling. Alex replied in kind, flashing his teeth with a low growl at him.

"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed!" Gandalf snapped, drawing the Orc's attention to him. "Tell your master this: The armies of Mordor must disband! He is to depart this land, never to return!"

The negotiator pulled his lips back in a mock grin. "Old Greybeard" He paused, waiting for them to focus on him before he continued with a smirk. "I have a token I was bidden to show thee." In one swift motion, he pulled something silvery from his saddle bag.

The Companions gasped barely noticeable and Alex' nose twitched. It smelled of Frodo, but why?

A second later his memory pieced together its appearance, its size and the sound of small chains chiming against each other. It was Frodo's Mithril shirt, which they had seen in Lothlórien.

His Mithril shirt in the hands of the Orcs.

Alex felt his insides run cold as he continued to stare at the chain mail.

"Frodo!" Merry and Pippin whispered. Sauron's negotiator grinned as wide as his helmet allowed him to as he threw the shirt at Gandalf, who caught it in bewilderment. The Wizard turned it over in his hands, but he did notice Alex' glance. The virus figured his face must have shown a mixture between shock and rage, because the Hobbits were the first ones to understand.

"Frodo!" Pippin gasped.

Gandalf paled. "Silence!" he commanded, but the Orc already noticed it. He snapped his head towards them, giving a guttural bark of laughter, making Merry utter a startled "No!"

"Silence!" Gandalf snapped again, but the Orc noticed already turned his attention to the Hobbits, a malicious grin on his face.

"The Halfling was dear to thee, I see", he said with a cruel tone. His teeth flashed again, even as he turned his head and gave a thoughtful glance at the sky. "Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host." The companions were silent, trying to comprehend what the Orc just said. Aragorn scowled deeply, while Alex was quickly switching between rage and utter shock, realizing that he could have easily rescued Frodo.

But he didn't. He left him at the hands of Sauron.

"Who would have thought one so small could endure so much pain?" The Orc sneered. The Wizard lowered his head, fighting back tears and staring at the Mithril shirt even as he handed it to Pippin. Sauron's negotiator lowered his voice, addressing the old man. "And he did, Gandalf. He did."

Alex snarled enraged as he took a few steps towards this fucker. He was going to make him _pay_ , he was going to murder him very slowly and drape his body over the fucking walls. He heard hooves clatter next to him, but he was going to ignore it. But Aragorn could always read him very well, so he made a noise in the back of his throat, drawing the virus' attention. Alex lifted his head and glared at the Ranger murderously. He recognized the look Aragorn was giving him.

He too wanted the Orc to die.

 _Painfully._

"And who is this?" Sauron's negotiator asked amused as the two approached him with dark glares. "Isildur's Heir and his slave?" He chuckled. "It takes more to make a king than a broken Elvish Blade-"

His words were cut off brutally as Aragorn sunk his sword deep into his throat, while Alex had already grabbed him and dragged him off the quickly panicking horse. He made sure to sink his feeding tendrils as _slowly as possible_ into his flesh to make Sauron's negotiator _suffer_.

Aragorn didn't change his dark expressions as the virus wrecked havoc through the Orc's body, tearing it apart slowly, while the others did look a bit startled.

"I guess that concludes negotiations", Gimli deadpanned.

"I don't believe it!" Aragorn snapped, turning towards his companions. He grit his teeth, locking gazes with Gandalf. "I will not!"

There was an enraged uproar and the sound of flesh tearing. Isildur's heir turned just in time to see the writhing black mass completely obliterate any trace left of Sauron's negotiator. Alex' eyes were glowing with something that appeared to be realization. "He's lying!" Alex snapped. He had surveyed the Orc's memories while he was consuming him, something he normally kept for the post-feeding, but he had made an exception to torture the creature further

"They have lost Frodo!" He declared with a strong voice. He turned his head and glared at the Eye atop Barad-Dûr through the narrow opening. Sauron had noticed his servant's violent demise and had turned his attention towards them. "The stronghold was devoid of life", the virus continued with a growl. "All Orcs have been slaughtered with no trace of the Hobbit. So Frodo must still be alive!" His declaration was cut short by the creaking of the Gate and the sounds of thousands of Orcs marching.

The chains rattled and the huge wings swung wide open, allowing the group to see a giant army of Uruk marching towards them.

"Pull back!" Aragorn ordered. "Pull back!" His companions turned and rode back to their own army, though Alex did spend another few seconds hissing at the approaching host before he turned and jogged after his friends to catch up with them.

Their men were close to panicking now, they were panting harshly and they looked around nervously. Alex could actually smell their fear and he could hear their hearts pump faster as the Orcs poured out of the open gate like blood from a gaping wound.

Entirely too many.

Aragorn's pulse was going almost too fast and he was panting, but his anxiety could not be seen on his face as he rode towards the host. "Hold your ground!" He ordered, holding his sword high over his head. "Hold your ground!"

He rode along them, eyes blazing as he focused solely on his men. "Sons of Gondor! Of Rohan! My brothers!" His voice had calmed down the soldiers and they now watched him instead of the approaching army.

Aragorn continued. "I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me!" He grit his teeth together. "A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends, and break all bonds of fellowship", he snapped, "But _it is not this day_! An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of Men comes crashing down, but _it is not this day_!" His voice rose to a shout "This day, we fight!"

He stopped in front of them, sword lifted up and steel eyes blazing. "By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you to stand, Men of the West!"

The soldiers all drew their swords and lifted them over their heads, shouting in acknowledgement. Alex snarled and freed _Morn-Galad_ from its sheath against his hip, pointing it skywards just like the other soldiers. Today he was just another face in the crowd.

Another soldier fighting a war.

But he was going to have _so much fun_.

* * *

It was almost painful for Alex to wait as the Orcs begun crowding around them, closing them off. Aragorn and the others had dismounted by now and had sent their steeds away. In this battle they should fight close to each other anyways.

The virus beneath his skin was already churning to prepare itself, to repair any damage that would be suffered and to increase the speed of his transformations.

The smell of adrenaline and the sound of thousands of hearts fluttering frantically was quite enticing for the Prototype. His senses went havoc at the overload of information and his entire body was shifting in anticipation. Waves of red and black ran over his frame as he waited with barely contained hunger for the Orcs to stop marching. He knew he had to keep a clear head, but the thirst for battle quickly began clouding his judgement.

"Never thought I'd die side by side with an Elf", Gimli grumbled under his breath with nervous pants nearby.

Legolas smirked down to him, even though even the Elf Prince was barely holding his head together himself. "What about side by side with a friend?" He asked with a genuine smile.

Gimli pondered it for a moment. "Aye. I could do that."

The armies of Mordor were greatly outnumbering the army of Men. By now, they were completely cut off by thousands of Orcs in every direction. Luckily, they did keep their distance, allowing them a few hundred yards of free plains.

Alex let out a low hiss, forcing down the urge to just simply jump out and start _mauling_ them.

The soldiers around him were nervous, but none of them backed down now, none of them let their fear override them.

Aragorn lifted his head, staring right at Sauron's eye. He frowned deeply as the Dark Lord was whispering to him. Even now he tried to win him over to his side.

Well, tough luck. They were all done with him anyways.

"Hey Boromir?" Alex called out with a strained voice, tendrils running up and down his body. "Remember Moria?"

The Gondorian eyed him with a questioning look, but suddenly his face lit up, only to settle in a shocked expression.

"I thought so", the virus grinned, concentrating his Biomass.

Aragorn arched his eyebrow in understanding. "For Frodo", he whispered, gaze not tearing away from Sauron's eye.

"NOBODY MOVE!" Alex roared out, slamming his fists into the floor. His Biomass raced through the ground, spreading far and wide. The Devastators always felt like a punch to the guts, and he knew that he was going to feel like shit in a few seconds from the loss of the sheer amount of mass he was currently channelling into the ground. But it was worth it. For Frodo.

"FOR FRODO!" Aragorn bellowed, giving the Blacklight carrier his signal.

Alex' body lurched and the Biomass in the ground answered.

Black spikes shot from the soil all around the group, racing outwards in a truly nightmarish spectacle, impaling Orcs all around them. This Graveyard Groundspike Devastator was the largest attack Alex had ever used. It burnt up nearly all of his Biomass up in one single, glorious attack, but he could easily replenish it. There were more than enough Orcs around anyways.

The Giant Spikes killed everything that wasn't friendly within a radius of easily three hundred meters on either side of the warriors, decimating the armies that surrounded them with one single blow. In an instant, the ground turned black from entrails, blood and eviscerated carcasses.

Men gasped in horror at the sight of the brutal attack that made the armies of Sauron falter in their movements and drew even a enraged shriek from the Dark Lord himself.

The delicious smell of Orc blood hit the Prototype's nose like a sledgehammer. His instincts all screamed at him to consume, to maim, to kill.  
Time for his higher brain functions to shut the hell up and take a nap. Alex let out an earth-shaking howl and lunged across the battle field, seeking to sate his hunger without waiting for any other type of signal. He didn't need to, he knew. The battle had begun. From now on, Chaos reigned until either of the armies was defeated.

He senselessly tore through Orc bodies around him, feeling his mind slip further away. But that was okay. There were more than enough victims around.

"FOR FRODO!" Aragorn shouted and dashed after the virus not even a second later, splashing through guts and blood as if they weren't even there. He wasn't going to let his friend get all the glory.

"FOR FRODO!" Merry and Pippin yelled and followed after Aragorn next, deftly ignoring the gore around them.

The soldiers in the army let out a hoarse shout and started running too, quickly overtaking the Hobbits and charging head-on to their doom.

The orcs were taken back by the human's violent disregard for their own lives as they raced towards them, swords flashing.

Aragorn dove into the brawl first, decapitating his first opponent with no further troubles.

There was no way in Hell that Sauron would win this.

Not. A. Single.

* * *

Gandalf dodged a blow to the skull and retaliated by stabbing Glamdring through the attacker's chest. The Orc gurgled, then reeled over and plunged into the soaked ground. The Wizard whirled around, slicing through another attacker's chest.

He caught sight of Legolas bashing Orcs with his bow or stabbing them with the arrows instead of shooting them, he saw Gimli smashing his Axe into legs and groins, and he saw the Hobbits gracefully dodging around swords and spears.

Suddenly there was a terrified outcry as a massive amount of tendrils and spikes broke from the horde several yards away, reducing about a hundred of them to cooling corpses on the ground.

Another Orc appeared behind him while he was looking for his companions. Gandalf whirled to take it on, but a shadow suddenly soared right over his head and crushed into the Orc, decimating it into a pile of flesh.

The plague in the shape of a man stepped to the front, slicing his giant claws into three Orcs at once and consumed them quickly. He had forgone putting on his armour, Gandalf realized, and was now completely splattered with blood.

"Alex", Gandalf called out, slashing another Orc down, "A little less enthusiasm maybe?"

The virus stopped what he was doing and turned to face him. His eyes were glowing crimson beneath his hood. His expression didn't change at all, but the Wizard had the distinct feeling that he tried to get his thoughts back in order.

He didn't manage to do so as he grabbed another enemy and just stabbed it once, throwing it into the horde and watching with a _gleeful_ shriek how it exploded in a gory mass.

"I do hope you still recognize friend and enemy", Gandalf stated with a frown. "May you get your mind back once the battle is over, my friend."

His only answer was another _happy_ roar as the creature that normally disguised himself as his companion ripped an Orc in half at the waist. He took a few moments to play with its innards in fascination before he kicked off the ground and leapt across the Battlefield, bringing forth his giant blade to cut through his foes.

"I weep for the men of your world", the Wizard commented dryly, loping off an arm nearby.

A high-pitched shriek drew his entire attention. His head snapped up where the five winged shadows of the Nazgûl descended upon them, ready to bring about death and destruction.

Even with the loss of several of their brethren, the Wraiths were still Sauron's most dangerous forces, and even one would be enough to turn the tides and break the men's spirits, making them easy targets.

And with their strongest fighter now blatantly disregarding anything that _wasn't_ an Orc, they also would have no weapon against the Nazgûl.

Or did they?

A large moth fluttered past his face and his expression brightened as he understood. He watched as one of the winged beasts swooped down, talons ready to tear through their ranks.

Only that it never managed to reach the men.

With an enraged outcry, a giant eagle tackled the beast and threw it off the track. The Nazgûl shrieked at his newly-arrived adversary, but the eagle already dove at it for a second attack.

Gwaihir, the Lord of the Winds, had come to their aid.

"Eagles! Pippin called out in surprise, "The Eagles are coming!"

Gandalf smiled. One friend he could always count on had come in their hour of need. Hope began to blossom in his chest as more of the birds appeared. With enraged cries, they dove at the Fell Beasts, slashing their talons at the foul creatures.

The eagles were smaller, but faster and much more agile than the giant winged terrors. They effortlessly battled them and kept them away from the army of Men. The Nazgûl were shrieking enraged, but they couldn't really do anything.

A roar drew Gandalf's attention, crushing the fragile flower of hope.

An army of Trolls marched towards the Men of the West. Their strength was unmatched as they effortlessly killed several of them with a single swing.

"Alex!" The Wizard called out, hoping to get through his dense skull. "The trolls!"

Well, he did get his attention, judging from the way the plague's head snapped up. Gandalf motioned towards the Trolls. "Kill them!"

The virus blinked at him, but realization slowly dawned on his face. It was like watching a man wake up from deep slumber, but it was too slow for Gandalf's taste. The hooded man's lips twisted suddenly to a hungry grin and he lunged at the nearest Troll, eviscerating and devouring it within moments.

The Wizard narrowed his eyes. That was one crisis barely averted, but the element of surprise was gone. Sauron had to fall now, or else all of them would be dead.

* * *

Aragorn found himself slammed flat on his back with a giant Troll threatening to stomp him into paste. He really didn't believe that Trolls could fight so well with a sword that it was able to fling him through the air.

But now he was here, on the ground and that Troll was above him.

He could hear Legolas' alarmed shouts, but the Elf couldn't help him. He tried to charge through the ranks of the enemy, but he had to fight Orcs off again and again and again, leaving Isildur's heir alone in his fate. The Troll kicked its foot at the Ranger, sending him crushing to the ground. Aragorn gasped and struggled and his hand grasped the hilt of his dagger. He ripped it out of its holster, sinking the blade deep into the scaly hide of the Troll's foot. The beast roared out in pain and swayed back, letting him go. Aragorn tried to struggle back to his feet, but the Troll was already back, lifting his sword to take the man down.

A loud, pained shriek silenced the entire battlefield. Every warrior stopped, and even the Orcs and Trolls slowly turned to the tower of Barad-Dûr. The Troll that had attacked Aragorn was howling in panic and ran away as one of the first, while the Ranger climbed back to his feet, staring at the giant tower in the distance.

Clouds were swirling around the burning eye atop the stronghold while Sauron's eye was twitching around, its gaze rigid.

And then the tower cracked and began to fall apart, the dark magic that kept it together failing as it was descending towards the ground at a startling speed. Sauron's eye was thrashing and flaring, screeching in agony.  
The Men of the West stood there in silence, watching the enemy's stronghold collapse further.

In this instant Aragorn knew that the Dark Lord was defeated. Sauron was screaming in terror, but his life force was beginning to erode faster than his dark edifice.

The high-pitched shriek turned into a whimper and the wicked flames collapsed into a small orb of fire, like a candle snuffed out.

The orb suddenly and violently exploded outwards, sending a mighty shockwave racing across the Land of Mordor. Dust was carried away like a flood wave.

"FRODO!" Merry cheered, "FRODO!"

"FRODO!" Gimli shouted with a giant goofy grin on his face.

The army of Men just stood there in amazement as the armies of Mordor started to flee in panic, abandoning the battle without harming the Men any further.

But it was too late. The shockwave of the Dark Lord's death hit them and the ground caved in, swallowing up the foul beasts. The Black Gate itself collapsed in a glorious sight, breaking into many pieces and burying Orcs beneath its rubble. The noise was overwhelming, but all that rang through Aragorn's head was ' _We have won.'_

The dark forces also couldn't harm the army of the West, for no piece of rubble hit them, no hole opened up beneath their feet.

What pitifully remains were left of the Orcs fled into the lands of Man. They would be rounded up sooner or later. Without their Master, they had no drive behind them to destroy anything anymore.

"Ho-Oly FUCK!" Aragorn slowly turned to see his hooded companion stand next to him, clear blue eyes focused on the place the Barad-Dûr once stood. He was still splattered in blood and was also holding the mangled remains of an Orc, but his mind seemed to have cleared completely.

"Frodo did it", Aragorn whispered in relief. "Frodo did it."

"Frodo stole my kill", Alex commented in disbelief. "He seriously-he really took down the fucking Dark Lord by himself!"

The Orodruin erupted with a deafening blow, tearing giant chunks out of its flanks and making the Ranger flinch startled. Lava was spraying everywhere, like blood shooting from an arterial slash. The Nazgûl, that had abandoned the battle with the eagles earlier, were all swallowed up by the fires of Mount Doom.

The war was over. They had won.

"FRODO!" Alex' voice shouted in panic nearby. Aragorn slowly turned in confusion, seeing a true expression of fear and despair on the hooded man's face.

Alex never showed emotions... His blood ran cold as a realization suddenly came to his mind. Frodo was still there. Inside the mountain.

Inside the _exploding_ mountain.

Alex just stood there, staring at the display in utter defeat. He just realized that even with his speed and power, he could not reach them in time.

He could _not_ _safe_ the Hobbit that just saved them all.

And that thought rested heavily in Aragorn's stomach.

The War was won, the Evil banished, but for what prize?


	29. Return of the King

Return of the King

Frodo felt as if he was floating on clouds. His body felt weightless as he was lost in blissful unawareness. He couldn't remember how he got here, but the lack of sounds and feeling was soothing. He was covered with something warm and soft, enticing his mind to go back to sleep.

He didn't want to wake up, he just wanted to continue sleeping.

 _'But you can't'_ , a voice said at the edge of his consciousness, _'The others are waiting for you.'_

Frodo didn't know whose voice it was. Maybe it was his own? No, his voice didn't sound so strong. His voice was weaker than that.

Then who was talking to him, urging him to wake up?

His mind started to clear as he thought about that question. He knew this voice from somewhere. He heard it quite recently too...

 _"Don't let go! Reach!"_

Frodo squirmed. It was the same voice again, but so full of fear and not like a gentle whisper, but rather like an echo of the past. The other one was scared, but why?

What has happened before he fell asleep?

 _"Take my hand!"_

Hand? Why hand? Was there something about his hand?

Frodo frowned on the inside, trying to figure out this question. There was something pulling at his consciousness, something like a dull throbbing. Was this his heartbeat?

The Hobbit frowned again and tried to focus on the feeling. He got a better grip on its location, but the throbbing was still muted, still away.

It was his left hand, wasn't it?

He curled it and suddenly realized that there was something amiss. Or better, something was missing.

Like one finger.

This confused Frodo even more. Why was he missing a finger? What had transpired?

He furrowed his brows, still with his eyes closed as he tried to concentrate. What has happened?

 _"It's gone. It's done"_ , that was his own voice. An echo like from a distant memory. What was gone? His finger? But why should he sound so relieved?

 _"The Ring is **mine**." _ Frodo flinched involuntarily. It was his voice again, but twisted. And corrupted...

The Ring!

Frodo's body trembled at the revelation. The Ring! He had to destroy Bilbo's Ring!

In an instant, every moment came back to him, flooding his mind as he remembered.

How Bilbo had left him the Ring, which sat on the mantle of his fireplace for _years_. How Gandalf came and told him that the Ring had to be taken away from the shire. How he and Sam set out, meeting Merry and Pippin near Farmer Maggot's farm.

His body shivered with cold dread as he remembered how the Black Rider discovered them, chased them to the ferry. How he and his friends arrived in Bree, how they met Strider and his hooded companion.

He remembered with terror the night that followed, when Sam and Merry and Pippin slept soundly until more Black Riders arrived. It was only thanks to Strider that they didn't discover them back then. Frodo saw how he and the others followed after Strider and his companion into the Wild, how after days of journey the Black Riders found them again and attacked them. He remembered that Strider's friend suddenly appeared out of nowhere and held the Black Riders off.

He remembered the Elf Woman who took him away, took him to Rivendell where he met his uncle again. He remembered being afraid when Bilbo's expression suddenly changed at the sight of the Ring.

It was back then when he began to realize how evil the Ring was, how twisted it made those he held dear.

Frodo squirmed as the memories sped up, whirling inside his head like leaves in a storm.

He thought of the Elf Lord, of the way one of the Men looked at him. Looked at the Ring.

 _'His name was Boromir, wasn't it?'_

The Elf Lord told them to destroy the Ring, to go and bring it to where it was once made to unmake it.

They formed a Fellowship, a group that was going to do just that. Merry was there and Pippin and Sam, and Strider too, and Gandalf. Boromir agreed to come with them and a Dwarf and an Elf too. And Strider's companion, the hooded man named Alex and who felt somehow _wrong_.

Frodo remembered how they began to travel, how they crossed the land of Hollin, how they tried to pass over the mountains.

They had to turn back and went through the Mines of Moria.

Frodo stopped there, fighting back a sob. In Moria they lost Gandalf. He fell into the abyss, trying to stop the giant flaming monster.

It was then when the Hobbit began to question the sense of this journey, when he wondered how he should proceed when his friends would be lost to him.

In Lothlórien, he began to realize that his companions followed him to make sure the Ring got destroyed, and they were ready to die for it.

Just that Frodo wouldn't want them to sacrifice themselves for it.

He remembered when the Ring took Boromir. He remembered the deranged glare on Alex' face when he briefly took hold of it. He remembered how he got the Ring back and fled the place. He didn't want his friends to be taken by the Ring, so he was determined to take it to Mordor on his own.

But Sam- Sam followed him. He went with him despite his protests.

And for this, Frodo was grateful.

The images flashed faster- how he and Sam met the creature Gollum and tamed him, how they met Boromir's brother Faramir, how they passed Cirith Ungol. With a pang of sadness he remembered how he believed Gollum more than his best friend, telling Sam to go back home. He remembered the giant spider that attacked him, he remembered waking up in the fortress, where Sam came back and rescued him. He remembered how he suddenly felt enraged by his best friend, how he spat curses at him for taking the Ring.

Frodo never meant it. He never wanted this to happen, but he couldn't control his own mind.

But Sam stayed with him. He stayed with him until he could walk no more, then Sam carried him up the slopes of Mount Doom.

Frodo could remember how he stumbled into the mountain, like in trance. He remembered how he considered dropping the Ring into the fires below, but he couldn't let go of it.

 _"The Ring is **mine**!"_

Frodo shook at the memory, how twisted his voice sounded. He wanted to keep the dreaded Ring, the thing that caused Gandalf's death and made Boromir go crazy.

He never wanted to keep it, but his mind wanted to. It desired the cursed Ring and Frodo was powerless to stop it.

But when Gollum appeared and stole his Ring- he _bit off_ his finger, didn't he?- He felt white-hot rage well up in him.

He pushed the creature into the fires, nearly falling into it himself.

Sam was there. Sam rescued him.

 _"Take my Hand! Don't you let go! Don't let go! Reach!"_

Sam had pulled him back up, but then the fires erupted around him. Fluid fire chased after them as they ran outside, over cracking bridges.

Outside, there was no way off the mountain. But Frodo knew they wouldn't get back to the shire anyways. He and Sam sat on a boulder, surrounded by molten fire as they remembered the Shire and Gandalf. They were just too blissfully happy that they had won. They had destroyed the Ring.

Frodo never felt more relieved than he did back then. Even as he slowly lost consciousness, all he could think of was that they had defeated the Evil that brought so much darkness over the world.

He furrowed his brows as he remembered something with large wings descending upon them. It wasn't the Black Rider he saw before, because he felt no fear from it. He remembered how the wind tousled his hair and lulled him to sleep.

It felt like he would never wake up from it again, but he felt it was alright. He had done his mission, he had destroyed the Evil. He just hoped that there would be stories and songs about him and Sam.

Frodo groaned, prying his eyes open. Well, if he was dead, then he could look around afterlife, could he? Maybe he'd meet his parents, and Sam and Gandalf.

It took his eyes a moment to get focused. The room he was in was dyed in golden light, soothing and too pristine to be real. He was in a warm bed and he had been cleaned and freshly dressed.

As his senses began to work properly, he became aware of the other presence in the room. He slowly turned his head, recognizing Gandalf sitting next to him.

The Wizard looked like he remembered him, he smelled of Old Toby and fireworks. But there was something strange about him- like the white hair and clothes as opposed to the grey he wore before.

"Gandalf?" The Hobbit whispered confused. The Wizard pulled his lips up in a smile, before he started laughing heartily.

"Gandalf!" Frodo sat up a bit straighter, holding out his arms. It didn't matter that he was dead now, because Gandalf was here and everything was going to be alright.

The door next to his bed suddenly opened, revealing Merry and Pippin. Frodo froze for a split second, because he never wanted his cousins to die and join him.

"Frodo!" Merry and Pippin called out in relief as they dashed through the door and jumped on his bed, hugging him tightly. Frodo laughed in realization. He suddenly became aware that this was _real_ and he was still _alive_ and Gandalf too. He couldn't hold back his laughter as Merry and Pippin wrapped around him, laughing along with him. They were a bit too rough on his bruised body, but Frodo didn't care. He was just so glad that they were alright and that he was still alive and the Ring was destroyed and would never hurt his friends again.

From beneath his cousins, he saw Gimli round the corner and stop in amazement.

"Frodo, my lad!" The Dwarf greeted him with a big goofy grin

"Gimli!" Frodo replied with an equal expression. The Dwarf laughed and walked up to him, allowing Legolas to step through the door next. The Elf smiled, but he said nothing. But he didn't need to. Alone the fact that he was here and that he was happy was enough for Frodo.

Boromir dashed in next. He didn't take the time to stop and take in the situation as he simply swooped down and just grabbed the Hobbit to draw him into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, Frodo", he mumbled with a cracking voice, "I never meant to chase you away."

"It's alright, Boromir", the Hobbit gave back with a slightly strained voice (Boromir was hugging him too tightly) "It's alright."

The Man blinked at him and his face split into a giant grin, grateful that Frodo forgave him that easily. But Frodo wasn't one to hold grudges. The Ring was destroyed and with it every terror it wrought upon the world.

Boromir set him down and hand him back into the care of his cousins when Strider walked through the door. Frodo held out his arms to wave at him. The Ranger pulled his lips up in a huge smile before he turned back to the door. He didn't leave though. Instead he dragged Alex into the room. The creature with the face of a man looked awkward, his movements blocky as he shuffled inside, eyes darting everywhere but Frodo's face.

The Hobbit grinned and called his name to get his attention. He beamed at him, waving his arms. Alex froze for a second before his hand slowly moved up and he gave a small wave while also trying to smile.

It came out slightly deranged, but at least it was genuine.

As everybody stood in front of his bed and Merry and Pippin continued to wrestle and hug him, Sam entered. Sam, who followed him through darkness, who protected him from the Ring's influence when it got too powerful. Sam, who helped him even if Frodo pushed him away.

Frodo was never happier to see him than he was now. His heart fluttered in his chest.

The Darkness was finally gone.

* * *

Aragorn wandered the halls of the palace. He didn't wander aimlessly, even if it appeared like it.

He was looking for Alex. His friend had simply removed his presence from Frodo's room when they weren't looking, and now the Ranger was searching for him. He was worried that he might have returned to his plane of existence without anybody noticing, fading away like the army of the Dead did. It did fit his overall behaviour perfectly, to simply vanish.

But Aragorn still wanted to express his gratitude. He wanted to say good-bye first.

"My Lord", a voice declared next to him

Aragorn turned to see one of the guards stand nearby. Wasn't he the one sticking around Pippin so much? Pippin had said he was his friend. Aragorn frowned slightly, searching his memories for his name. He made a habit out of referring to others by their given names, it made things much more personal.

His face lit up as he finally found the matching name. "Beregond", he greeted the man, "What is it you want to tell me?"

The guard was taken back for a split second upon hearing the Heir of Isildur call him by his name, though his stance relaxed for a moment.

"I was to give you a message from your companion", he stated.

"Alex?" Aragorn asked. He noticed Beregond's expression that told him he had clearly no idea who he meant. "The man in the hood", Isildur's Heir clarified, "The one that scowls most of the time and looks like he can rip a Troll in half."

"Ah. Yes. That's him", the guard nodded. "He asked of me to keep an eye out for you."

"And what is it he wanted you to tell me?" Aragorn wondered if this was Alex' way of vanishing, just to tell some random guard to bring the news to him.

"He claimed that he went down into the Fields, if you wish to join him."

So he was still around. "Thank you"

The Guard shuffled his feet uncertainly at the unexpected thank before he nodded with a grin. "You're very welcome, my Lord."

Aragorn left him there, walking right out of the palace. Minas Tirith was large, but not overly so and with the stairs he would get down to the plains fast enough anyways.

He just enjoyed the little walk down here, mostly ignoring the people around whispering in surprise at his presence. He picked up things about 'The King returned' and 'A new Era begins'. But why?

He was still Aragorn who just did what was necessary, so when did he turn into their saviour?

 _'Maybe when you did what was widely seen as impossible'_

Aragorn disagreed with that thought. He just managed to persuade Théoden to bring his Rohirrim into the city, he managed to talk the King of the Dead into helping him and he led a reckless suicidal charge at the Black Gates- which they managed to win with only a few hundred losses.

He also helped the wounded warriors, even if he could not help Denethor in the end. When they returned from the Morannon, Faramir had told them that his father had passed only a few days after leaving Minas Tirith.

Aragorn would have loved to meet Boromir's father when he was in better health, he would have loved to see him regain his senses after being driven to madness by the fear of Sauron. He let out a sigh and threw a glance back at the palace above him. Deep inside was the royal crypt in which now Denethor rested.

"May you find peace, Denethor", Aragorn muttered as he stepped through the gate.

He was glad when he got out of the city and left their whispering behind. The field was so silent in contrast to Minas Tirith, it almost felt unreal. Aragorn stood there for a moment, staring into the distance.

A strong breeze rustled the grass. Not even a month after the battle against Sauron's forces and nature had turned back to normal. The torn soil was evenly covered with grass, weeds and flowers. The Hydra burrows had been filled up and were thus hidden from view. The crater in the middle of the field was slowly beginning to fill up with rain water.

When he closed his eyes, Aragorn could still see the sight he had when he first stood here. Countless bodies covered the ground, weapons and shields were strewn about and people were wandering aimlessly over the ruined ground, looking for their friends and families. When he opened his eyes, everything was calm and peaceful, like nothing ever happened.

But he knew that many families had to bury their sons, husbands and fathers, but those were lucky enough to have a body to bury. Many corpses were too disfigured to recognize a face, so those have been collected and buried near the city's walls with all honours.

And this was where his feet led him. Aragorn wasn't sure why, but his heart told him that this was where he would find his friend.

As the heir of Isildur reached the hundreds of grave markers and the white stones piled upon each other to cover the soil and the bodies beneath, he took notice of a rather silent scraping.  
He changed his path, walking to the back of the resting area for the Dead where he finally found Alex.

The hooded man was crouched over a large stone, scraping his massive metallic claws against it with slow, calculated moves. Next to him was a rather small pile of rocks akin to the graves around them. Aragorn stopped and realized that those were just random stones his friend had piled together, not the white ones broken from the quarry normally used for the king's graves.

"Are you just going to stand there?"

The Ranger lifted his head at Alex' voice. The other man hadn't bothered looking at him, but he did notice his presence.

"I was just wondering what you were doing", Aragorn explained.

"You didn't", Alex explained in all seriousness. "You stood there, wondering if I was just a figment of your imagination or if I was really there."

"You got me", the Ranger replied with a smile. He walked over and sat down on a boulder, watching the other continue to scrape groves into the surface of the rock. "I was worried when you simply left us. I thought you've already returned to your world without bidding farewell."

"I wouldn't", Alex stopped and turned to look at him. "I just felt out of place. I never know what to do around sick people. So I came down here to put some of my own demons to rest."

Aragorn arched his eyebrows and waited for the other to continue speaking, but he turned his attention back to his work. It took him a while to pick up the conversation again. "You know I could have hauled Frodo to Mount Doom within a few days and had him chuck that stupid Ring into the lava before anybody would have been able to react". He said. "We wouldn't have lost so many people then."

Aragorn gazed across the graves around them and agreed with a silent nod. "We all feel the pain of having sent people to their deaths", he said. "But you have to ask yourself, what would have happened if you had taken all matters into your own hands? Rohan would still be under Saruman's control, for we wouldn't have any reason to fight the White Wizard. Gondor would still be ruled by Denethor and his madness, still opposing the men of Rohan. The Dead of Dimholt would still be cursed. I would still be in the Wilds, living without ever realizing my true destiny." He turned his eyes to Alex. "Boromir would still not realize how dangerous the Ring is. Merry and Pippin would never have grown in their abilities. You would still oppose your true nature."

Alex snorted as he heaved the stone upright and settled it down next to the pile of rocks. "Maybe you're right about this", he agreed. "There is no easy way to rescue a land, is there? You can't just cheat your way through it. Not without getting the support of everybody you meet along the way." He turned to face the Ranger. "And that is what I admire about you, Aragorn. You are a good guy. You can inspire the masses to follow you, even to Hell and back. And most of all, you keep your plate clean and your Karma happy." He shrugged. "The complete opposite of me. Karma hates me and all I can do is violently carve a bloody swathe through those people that stand against me. I can only threaten them to work with me, but then it is no wonder they turn back around and stab me in the back."

"You can be a good man too", Aragorn argued. "What you for Middle Earth did redeems you in my eyes. You just need to remember this once you return to your own world."

"You think Dana would be proud of me?"

"I believe so."

Alex inclined his head. "Then that's good enough for me."

Aragorn stepped towards the carved stone. It was a simple design, containing only a few lines of text and thus vastly different from the markers around.

"His name was Arundín", Alex said silently next to him.

Aragorn blinked in realization. "That is the name of one of the Rangers from Eriador."

Alex squirmed somewhat. "He was the first person I met here", he finally admitted, "He had been captured by Orcs, tortured and near death. And..." He trailed off.

"And?"

"I was hungry."

Aragorn frowned at the virus for a good few seconds, and Alex was shifting his feet uncertainly. "You know what's the worst about my abilities?" He eventually asked, "I always hear their voices, I always see their lives flash before my eyes, always see people on the street _I_ don't know, but still recognize, always re-live their last moments, screaming as I tear into them. It just doesn't stop."

"The prize for your powers", Aragorn realized. "A curse." He frowned at the grave once more. "You said he was close to death, tortured even, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Then all you did was to end his suffering. Even if I wished it had been another way, but the past cannot be changed anymore."

"Thanks for not chewing me out."

"I don't judge a man when he already prooved to me of his worth." He paused again, turning to the virus after a moment. "The balance is restored. When do you wish to leave?"

"I'm sure I still have some weeks left before I go. Manhattan went without me for the past eight months, she can wait some more", Alex explained, "I'm going to see the end of this first."

* * *

The air was still crisp, but with spring approaching, it wasn't so cold anymore. Alex frowned and looked around, feeling the wind whip his clothes. Okay, so maybe it was still cold, but not as cold as it was last time he was around here.

And there was no blizzard this time too.

He looked around the area, realizing that there were barely any peaks higher than the one he was on. He was just glad he didn't need to breathe, so the thin air up here barely interested him. It was only a few days after his conversation with Aragorn and he had already crossed most of the distance between Minas Tirith and Rivendell. But he didn't want to meet up with Elrond. Alex had returned to the Misty Mountains and had climbed through their peaks until he found the remains of Durin's Tower atop the Zirakzigil peak, the place where Gandalf had died and returned to life, and-more importantly- it also was where the Balrog fell.

Alex came here mainly to remove all traces of Blacklight from Middle Earth. His Hive Mind didn't pick up any traces of living Blacklight anywhere else, except around here. He did remember that he actually tried to consume the Balrog when he fought it, so his virus was still inside the beast.

He clicked his teeth together to send out a sort of invisible pulse that allowed him to track any desired genetic traces. The track came from beneath the cliffs, down in some trench. Alex frowned and looked up at the sky. The sun was out, but with the cold around here, there was bound to be a Satan-sicle down there.

Or a frozen Hive that fed on its remains.

But either way, he was going to get a feast.

So he leapt down, though he barely cratered thanks to the snow drifts that cushioned his fall. Alex swore. He really, really didn't like snow.

Shattered rocks covered the narrow trench he was in and freshly-fallen snow had gently blanketed all of it.

The Prototype narrowed his eyes and grew a group of tendrils that he sunk into the snow to search for the body beneath. When they made contact, he pulled them back, dragging the giant frozen corpse out of its cold grave.

"You don't look so tough now, do you, Satan?" Alex had asked it rhetorically. He placed the body on the ground and cracked his knuckles before shifting them into his claws. He quickly sheared off large amounts of ice that covered the Balrog, always focusing on the virus within. It was largely inactive due to the cold, but it was still alive.

And that meant it had started to infect the Balrog.

Alex grinned. Blacklight was highly adaptive and the small amount he managed to introduce to the Balrog's system was enough to spawn mutated strains that could live inside the demon's biological makeup. All Alex had to do now was to absorb them and add them to his own strains, and then wait a few minutes until he adapted too.

So he yanked the corpse's chest cavity open and plunged his feeding tendrils inside, spreading his Biomass around evenly to get as much contact as somehow possible.

He also searched for something inside the demon, something he had discovered when devouring Saruman.

The Balrog, like Saruman, was of the Maiar, a spirit-like species that descended towards Middle Earth and were given a shape of flesh. Not really immortal, but in any cases extremely durable towards age and injury. The tricky thing is that these fleshy containers did not contain a real genetic makeup like real living beings have, making it near impossible to gain any information off their bodies other than the physical appearance and memories stored in the grey matter.

But when Alex had consumed Saruman, he discovered something he nearly overlooked: The core of the flesh-bound spirits, a piece of muscle that acted as heart and as connection to the realm they originated from.

Sadly, he had broken it down too fast, thus he was unable to gain Saruman's powers, but he was going to play it safe with the Balrog. Focusing on the task at hand, he dug around the carcass until he clasped his claws around the massive heart of the demon. It was punctured- most likely by Gandalf when they fought- but otherwise unharmed. And, more importantly, it was still _alive_. Not alive enough to reanimate the demon, but just enough to allow Alex to feed on it through his normal method.

He held the heart aloft, slowly wrapping tendrils around it, connecting it to his own system to keep it alive a little while further while the remaining body of the Balrog was already being broken down and added to the virus' own Biomass.

Alex winced at the feeling of the cold dead meat being absorbed. It was almost as if it was somehow burning, but he paid it no further attention. The flesh had been frozen, after all, and he never had frozen food before, making this a new experience.

He waited until his insides settled down and finished assimilating the new strains. Then he sunk his tendrils into the Balrog's core.

Alex quickly regretted it. And he regretted it hard.

While initially it has been nothing more than a light burn somewhere in the middle section of his body, it quickly burst out to a fully-grown flash fire racing through his body.

While it wasn't actual fire that would burn away his Biomass, it still felt like it. It felt eerily similar to when the Nuke went off and tore Alex' body to shreds.

Alex was pretty sure he was howling in pain, at least judging from the screeches bouncing off the cliffs around him, but he couldn't really take care of it. He curled in on himself, trying to keep his body together while the Virus tried to assimilate the Balrog's code. His frame was heaving with the shock and his tendrils snapped out, smashing into the rocks on either side of him.

He must have lost consciousness at some time, because when he came back to his senses, he was buried in tons of snow. From the looks of it, an avalanche had struck him. He groaned and twisted his body, checking whether he still had everything attached before he slowly started to dig his way to the surface.

It was night when he reached the surface...and probably two or three days later. Alex groaned with the effects of the worst hangover he ever experienced, but he still got moving. The first few steps were slow and dangerously unbalanced, but he soon managed to get the motions right.

He didn't feel like gliding or running too fast though, so his trip back to Minas Tirith took him longer than he anticipated it.

When he finally reached the city gates, he was sure he looked worse than a meth-addicted corpse that hadn't slept in weeks. Gandalf greeted him, grinning cheekily as he told him with a half-amused tone in his voice that he wouldn't have needed to snack on Durin's Bane if he was hungry. He could have just gotten a real meal to eat, if he had asked nicely. Alex growled in irritation, pushing past the Wizard. He just wanted to sleep, to re-arrange his insides to host the new strains better than his hasty cobbled-together effort he made at the mountain. He could deal with their stupid comments on a later day.

* * *

 _1st May_

The sun was shining warmly on Minas Tirith. There wasn't even a single cloud in the clear sky and even the dark lands of Mordor had finally settled down and the eruption of Mount Doom had finally stopped.

The entire city population was there in the courtyard of the palace, crowded on the cliff high over the fields of Pelennor. The Fellowship was inside the crowd, with no difference between the people, the soldiers or the King's closest friends. Alex himself stood with Elladan and Elrohir near the White Tree of Gondor, watching Aragorn in his pristine armour and clean cloak. The twins smiled widely, looking much less mischievous than they used to be. Today they were the proudest big brothers a man could wish for.

Alex wasn't scowling today, even if he did feel slightly uncomfortable. He was never good in crowds. Crowd control yes, crowds...not so much.  
He shuffled his feet and tried to tug his hood lower, but seeing as he wasn't wearing one today, he settled for tousling his curly hair. He felt extremely exposed without the hood, but he was going to manage it today. For Aragorn's sake.

He craned his neck and looked over to the palace just a few yards away from him. This was the last thing he was going to do in Middle Earth before he would go home. He promised Aragorn he would stick around to see the end of it.

Isildur's Heir was in front of the Palace, kneeling before Gandalf. The Wizard took a silver crown from a cushion offered by Gimli and held it high into the air for everybody to see. He slowly lowered it on Aragorn's head. "Now come the day of the King", Gandalf declared with a celebratory voice that could be heard all over the courtyard. Aragorn smiled at him as the Wizard whispered "May they be blessed" and took a step back to stand to the King's side.

The newly crowned King slowly stood up and turned around, and the crowd began to cheer wildly. Alex winced inwardly at the volume of them, but he didn't let any of it show on his face. Aragorn exhaled slowly and waited for them to calm down. "This day does not belong to one man, but to all", he declared, "Let us together rebuild this world that we may share in the days of peace."

The crowd cheered again and Alex noticed Gimli look up in amazement. He followed his gaze and noticed hundreds of white petals raining down all around them. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the White Tree, realizing just now that it was blooming.

The virus chuckled at how cheesy this entire situation was, but to the people here it was probably a sign. He spotted Èowyn and Faramir, standing side by side and looking incredibly happy together.

Alex just wondered whether Èomer was the same type of overprotective older brother that he was and then he realized that he probably was, because Èomer was exactly like him. Minus the Eldritch Abomination part, of course.

 _"Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien."_ Alex lifted his head, eyeing Aragorn at the sound of his voice. He was...singing? The crowd was silent, listening intently to their king's voice. _"Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar_ _tenn_ _' Ambar-metta."_ He sang about the sea and about his duty being the King of Gondor. It was a promise to the people to always guard them as long his blood line was still strong.

It was a very big promise, but Aragorn was going to keep it. He was Aragorn, after all.

The newly crowned King slowly walked past the rows of the guards, nodding towards Boromir, his younger brother Faramir and his fiancée Èowyn, all three of them inclined their heads in a sign of respect. Èomer, King of Rohan bowed to him as well when he walked past.

Alex could see Aragorn smile at each of them. It was his way of showing that he was more than grateful for their help with the war. No doubt there was going to be an after-party just for the Fellowship.

Too bad Alex would miss it.

A group of Elves stepped to the front, led by Legolas. Elladan and Elrohir had slipped away from Alex at some point to stand with their family and were now beaming at the King.

Aragorn placed his hand on Legolas' shoulder, thanking him for everything he did. Legolas smiled but said nothing, instead he inclined his head slightly, revealing Elrond and Arwen amongst the group. The King was at loss of words, as he could just stare with a hanging jaw at the Elf Woman who just stood there.

Alex arched his brows, because he really didn't expect her to be here. The last thing he saw of her was the image in the Palantír when Sauron threatened her life.

Elrond leaned to the front, whispering something to his daughter and gently nudged Arwen to the front. He did look somewhat defeated and proud at the same time when his daughter walked to the front, stopping just in front of Aragorn. She opened her mouth to say something, but Aragorn took the opportunity and grabbed the Elf Lady, kissing her passionately without leaving her a chance to react. She wasn't opposing the gesture though.

The crowd cheered again and Alex swore he heard a few catcalls coming from them. Arwen giggled once he let her go and hugged Aragorn tightly.

As they broke away, the crowd parted to give way for the couple to pass through. Aragorn approached Alex next, placing his hand on the virus' shoulder. "I thank you for everything you've done", He stated, "You would never have needed to fight our battles for us, and still you did. And for that, I am grateful."

"I did have fun", Alex admitted. He took the sheathed blade from his hip and held it towards Aragorn. The King blinked once and frowned at him. "Souvenir", The Prototype explained. "Something to remember me by."

Aragorn understood, but it was Arwen who reacted. "Keep _Morn-Galad_ , Alex", she said, "It is yours, even if you don't use it in your battles."

"Souvenir", Aragorn added with a wide grin.

"Just make sure you end all those wars, okay?" Alex replied while putting the sword back. He paused and added a small after thought. "Oh. And have your guys invent some indoor plumbing too. Trust me, it's gonna be worth it."

He took a step aside, allowing the King to pass by him and face the four Hobbits. Aragorn frowned at them. The Hobbits themselves looked around awkwardly and slowly bowed at the hip. Their movements were blocky and somehow inept.

Aragorn lifted his hand to stop them. "My friends", he began. The Hobbits looked up in confusion. "You bow to no one", the King declared. He lowered himself to one knee, lowering his head to the four Halflings.

Like dominos, every present person- civilian, guard, soldier, Fellowship member- followed after their King, bowing low before the Halflings. The four just stood there, staring in confusion at the courtyard who had their faces lowered to the ground for them.

It was their sign of respect for the four Halflings, and to Alex it was the sign of farewell. He turned and walked towards the railing, shifting to his normal Middle Earth outfit. He stopped and threw one last glance towards Aragorn and the men he learnt to know as his allies, before he leapt off the cliff and dropped out of sight.

His job here was done, now he had to get working in Manhattan.

* * *

A few days later and Galadriel received a lone visitor. He had arrived suddenly, appearing in front of her like the Wraith he once claimed to be.

"I see. You have returned here", she stated with a smile. "You have finished what you began here, Blacklight."

"I did", Alex replied. "Now I would like to go back to my city." He paused. "And my sister."

"The Balance has been restored and the Fates allow you to leave." Galadriel explained, lifting her hand "The Ring Nenya has given me the power to do so." Galadriel took a step to the brightly lit stairway she appeared from when they first met. "Go, Blacklight. Return to your home. Find your destiny amongst the world that you call your own. This is my gift to you."

Alex watched her for a moment before he nodded curtly. He walked up the stairs and into the light.


	30. Manhattan

**Author: And you thought that Chapter 29 was the last one. Surprise!  
No seriously, did you think that the end of the last chapter was the end to my story?  
**

 **Oh. Beware. Cross and Heller both like to drop the F-Word.**

* * *

Manhattan

Colonel Robert Cross had woken up this day with a massive headache. It didn't stop him from getting up and barking orders at the men, but it did foul his mood. He just wanted to get out of this piss-poor excuse of a city and get home to Sophia and son. Ace had his fourth Birthday just three days ago and the new General Rooks had allowed him to get some vacation for the weekend, but that was still a few days away.

Rooks was a good guy- as far as Blackwatch were able to produce good guys. At least he made an effort to keep the public off their asses using other tactics than just using cheap lies.

To achieve that, Rooks had simply named every single of the other generals and commanders to the media, blaming them for the outbreak and the Nuke, while presenting himself and the men being tricked by them. This much was true. Rooks never knew about the things and he had been just as shocked as Cross had been. Cross had managed to talk him into covering for Mercer as well, knowing fully well that Dana Mercer wouldn't be allowed a normal life otherwise, and she didn't have anything to do with what her brother did (Cross did regret his choice later, though). So Rooks made the late Doctor Mercer a Whistleblower, who worked under his orders but sadly was shot dead when he was trying to smuggle a biological weapon out of GENTEK. This caused the Outbreak of Manhattan in the end. The Terrorist ZEUS was listed as 'deceased', since nobody has seen him during the last nine months.

GENTEK was supposed to stay afloat, but five months ago, a hacker named 'Athena' uploaded everything they have done to WikiLeaks. Blackwatch managed to delete the site so their connection to GENTEK stayed a secret, but the company wasn't as lucky. GENTEK was torn apart by the media fast. Now Blackwatch had one ally less and one enemy more.

Cross scowled at the thought. Athena had contacted him later on, demanding him to keep Rooks on a short leash if he wanted to prevent her from dragging Blackwatch's secrets into the open too. Cross had obeyed her until this day so he wouldn't bring the heat down on his own ass- or worse, his family. Also, he was pretty sure he _knew_ who exactly Athena was. He had met her, briefly, several months back, but he wouldn't dare to touch her. Not before they had the confirmation that ZEUS was gone for good.

People were ungrateful. He tried to help her and she pushed him away, but a small part of his mind told him that it was because she was so enraged about ZEUS' demise, so she took up his battle against Blackwatch.

So Cross kept his mouth shut about her identity and she kept their secrets hidden.

The Colonel was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of a group of Marines stepping closer. He knew that many of his men had problems with the U.S. Army being so close to them, monitoring their every step, but Cross actually liked their presence. They were better men than most of Blackwatch, they had more resources- being directly under the orders of the President- and they had a better public image.

And Cross knew damn well that Blackwatch needed all the public support they could get so they finally were forced do their damn job and stop fucking the laws of biology for warfare.

He had never been naive, he knew Blackwatch was a bunch of fuckers from the day he joined their ranks, but he had believed what they told him, that they contained infections like the one in Manhattan. When he did discover the truth, he was nearly devastated. He struck a deal with ZEUS and had him take out Randall, then worked with Rooks to reform the unit.

He even got promoted to Colonel for his troubles.

But it worked. Blackwatch and the Marines had driven back the infection, had reduced it to only a few small Red Zones strewn throughout the city- but they continued to chip parts off it every day, driving out the monsters it brought.

Manhattan was beginning to return to its normal life again. Of course, the subways were still closed and many parts of the city were currently under reconstruction, but people began flocking back to the Big Apple, drawn there by the promise of new homes and jobs to pay them.

Cross never understood why people behaved like that, to return to a place that had suffered several catastrophes in short time and continue living in it.

At least the quarantine was working smoothly. Anybody who wanted to leave the city had to get checked for Redlight and Blacklight and go through a Bloodtox shower first, before they were allowed to continue their way.

"Colonel Cross"

Cross turned to watch a massive black man move towards him. The Specialist was quite tall himself, standing at 6' and some, but that guy still towered over him. His insignia and uniform revealed him to be a Marine Sergeant. This guy was one of the latest additions to the roster and he quickly became what could possibly be called a friend to Cross. Not that Cross didn't have friends- there were Bill and the Professor, but they were on the other side of the planet, living and working in Scotland and France, respectively.

And other people normally avoided him since he became Blackwatch.

"Sergeant Heller", Cross greeted him. Friends or not, they were still on the compound. Heller stood straight and folded his arms behind his back. "My men would want their new objectives, Sir."

The Blackwatch Colonel arched his eyebrow. "And why do you come to me with that? I'm Blackwatch, not the U.S. Army."

"But you are one of the few men who lived through the entire outbreak of last year", Heller pointed out, "And my men and I have been send to clear out the Hives at Times Square. Any suggestions on how to proceed?"

Times Square. Cross scowled. The area of Greene's last stand still withstood any advance to be cleared of the plague. The Infected simply refused to give the place up and fought back violently. Blackwatch hadn't managed to drive them out completely.

"Don't take off your masks and if anything moves, shoot it", the Specialist suggested. "If it was an infected, good for you. If it was a civilian, then what the fuck was he doing in the Red Zone anyways?"

"You don't care much for casualties, do you?" Heller had his muscular arms crossed in front of his beefy chest and watched the older man.

Cross shrugged. "Years ago I would have tried to get them out, but life finally managed to pound some reason into my skull. I don't care for _stupid_ casualties. If they would be a bit smarter and _not_ walk into the place that looks like Satan's asshole, then maybe I would try to avoid shooting them, but idiots just piss me off."

"Oh" Heller furrowed his brows. He paused, watching his men get ready. "What about ZEUS, though?"

"ZEUS?" Cross turned to his fellow soldier. "What about him?"

"I talked to some of your guys", Heller explained, "They said this thing is a nightmare. It ran through the bases and ate half of the people there, while brutally killing off the other half. They said it could fly and rip tanks in half with its bare hands and become everybody." He frowned at the Hives that littered the streets just a block away from their current position. "They said it would kill everybody in uniform should it see them. Is this true?"

"Mostly, yes", Cross admitted, shocking Heller. "Marines had less to fear of him though. He hated Blackwatch and GENTEK with a passion, but generally left you guys alone. As long they didn't shoot him."

"'Him', Cross?"

"His name's Mercer- or that's what he calls himself. There is the possibility that he's dead for good, though." Cross shrugged and massaged the back of his nose, trying to force the headache away. "I was there when he took the nuclear warhead to detonate it offshore. He never returned, was declared 'dead', but I wouldn't count on that. This bastard survived everything Blackwatch threw at him. It is possible he is just waiting for someone to disturb his nap."

Heller arched his brow. "And what if we wake him up?"

"Either he kills you immediately, but then you don't have to worry anyways, or he won't but then don't fucking shoot at him. He probably will try to scare you, but normally won't hurt you if you don't give him a reason to."

"I thought he was target number one?"

"He still is, but seriously?" Cross snorted. "It's easier to just leave him be. We had most casualties trying to contain ZEUS than fighting the infection. Believe me, it's better to work with him than against him."

"Personal experience, Sir?"

Cross smirked. "ZEUS is the only reason I am still alive today, Heller. Even when we started out as enemies, he did put aside his wish to kill me when we were forced to work together to take down the source of the infection."

Heller blinked. "So he's...a _reasonable_ monster?"

The Specialist scoffed. " _People_ are the real monsters, Heller, don't forget that. After all, _people_ went on to make the Redlight and the Blacklight Virus and _people_ blew up Hope and nearly Manhattan too. If anything, then Mercer's right to hate people."

A loud _CRACK_ silenced the normal sounds of the compound and made both men whirl around, hands already grasping their rifles.

"HUNTERS!" A Soldier shouted, seconds before the noise of gun fire drowned out everything.

"Fuck", Heller snapped. Cross scowled. The infected seemed to have adopted Mercer's innate hate for Blackwatch and tried their best to screw them up on every step. Normally it wasn't that problematic, since Hunters and Leader Hunters were mostly extinct already and Walkers weren't much of a trouble. Blackwatch and the Marines managed to take them out with no great troubles, even when their D-Codes have perished during the Outbreak last year. But that the Infected attacked them here like that...this was new. This was something they never did.

Heller and Cross ran to where the Infected were, noticing with a start that the chain link fence was torn down at the side to the nearby Hives. Three Hunters, one Leader Hunter and a group of Walkers ran towards them, screeching and roaring in rage. The Hunters had singled out the turrets and leapt at them immediately, driving away the men stationed there.

"Damn fuck!" Cross swore, "These Bastards are learning!"

"They never did that before?" Heller shouted back, unloading a clip into a nearby Hunter to try to bring it down. It staggered the beast, but didn't do much more damage than that. It did draw its attention, though.

"Ignore the Walkers!" Cross ordered, aiming at the Leader Hunter, "Take out the big guys first!" He whirled once. "Get those damn Bloodtox pumps working!"

His men and the Marines obeyed his order without question as they turned to target the Hunters. Red fog billowed out of the tanks behind them and the first Walkers started to gargle and choke, but the Hunters were only barely affected. Bastards started getting immune to the Bloodtox, they needed better stuff. Suddenly, the Leader Hunter roared out and heaved the wreckage of a cab over its head, targeting the men that crowded together.

Fuckers really started to learn.

Cross cursed and swung his grenade launcher at the beast, hoping to bring it down before it could launch its projectile at them.

He froze when a sudden loud screech drowned out the shooting. The Specialist felt his heart rate go up from the high-pitched sound, but he did notice that the Infected were stopping what they were doing and turned to glare at a point somewhere behind them.

"Holy Fucking Hell!" Heller ground out, staring at a point opposite of the Infected. Cross slowly turned his head into the direction and froze up once more.

There was _something_ peeling out of the red fog. It was big, it was black, had huge talons, a long neck and tail...and giant wings.

Fucking thing was _airborne_.

Bloodtox swirled around it as it crushed with the power of a freight train into the Leader Hunter, tackling it into a nearby desolate office building on the ground floor. The entire building shook with the force of the impact, forcing Cross and his men to get some distance between them and the Infected. It was a good idea, because seconds after the thing crushed the Hunter into the building, a massive array of spikes and tentacles shot out of the rubble, impaling and killing the Hunters. The Walkers backed off, unsure about how to proceed. Heller cursed under his breath while Cross narrowed his eyes.

This couldn't be...could it? _He_ was back, just like that?

There was a demented laughter coming from the dust, seconds before a black spiked whip shot out of it and latched onto one of the Walkers. It was held there while a hooded shape stepped out of the rubble and sauntered in front of the Blackwatch Compound. He turned his head and just _screeched_ at the other Infected. Cross snarled and pressed his hands against his ears just to shut the noise out, noting how his pulse and breathing picked up some more.

His men were also stunned, so they could only watch at how the Infected turned and _ran away_ in panic.

The hooded man chuckled and rammed one claw into the Walker he was holding before he hauled his arm back to throw the thing into its brethren.

It exploded in a gory mess of Tentacles and spikes, only to actually _explode_ later on in a ball of fire.

"Holy Fuck", Heller gasped.

Cross agreed with him, watching how the newcomer slowly turned around.

Familiar icy blue eyes settled on the Blackwatch and Marine troops, eyes he's seen each time his men died a horrid death.

Mercer. And he was back.

With the Infected gone, Mercer turned his full attention at them.

Cross scowled and stepped to the front, between his men and the virus clad in...Cross' thoughts came to a screeching halt as he took notice of the clothes Mercer was wearing.

They weren't his usual leather jacket and hoodie, but rather resembled those of the characters from his wife's games with leather gauntlets, long robes and boots (Cross never knew how she managed to cram her job, her family and those games into one day, but he never bothered to ask). Mercer even had a long sword attached to his hips.

"The fuck are you wearing?" Cross heard himself ask. Crap. He didn't want to voice his thoughts, but this was just too bizarre.

Mercer actually paused and looked down at his appearance with an arched brow. Without so much as a shrug of his shoulders, his body blurred into this nightmarish mess of red and black tendrils before settling back into his usual appearance with hoodie and leather jacket. The sword remained where it was though, showing that is was real and not just a part of him.

Seeing the Terrorist of Manhattan in their close proximity made the Blackwatch soldiers finally snap out of their stupor.

"TARGET SPOTTED!" one of them shouted and within the blink of an eye all of the black-suited men had their guns trained on the Prototype.

"Thank you very much for your input", Cross growled to no-one in particular, "I wouldn't have noticed without you that fucking ZEUS is here." He noticed how his men started to step to the front, scowling at the virus.

Mercer was glaring back, fingers twitching, yearning to change into claws, to shred the men, to continue where he left off before vanishing.

"Stand down!" Cross barked to stop this from happening. He even took a few steps towards the germy fucker to offer himself as the first victim. Mercer's eyes snapped to him, narrowing by a hair's width.

"Sir?!"

"You heard me", Cross snapped, not breaking gaze with the virus, "Stand down. Do _not_ engage."

"Sir, the order was to capture or terminate ZEUS"

"I know the fucking order", The specialist turned slightly and glared at the men, "But I am giving you another order. Put away your damn guns and _stand the fuck down_!"

"Listen to your Captain", ZEUS drawled out. "Put down your guns."

The Blackwatch soldiers and the Marines stepped back and lowered their rifles' muzzles to the ground, but their fingers still hovered over the trigger and they were ready to shoot Mercer at any given second.

"Good enough", the germy bastard grunted. His unsettling eyes are still moving across the men, but he isn't scared of them. He isn't enraged, he isn't shortly before leaping at them to rend them to bloody ribbons. No, he just stands there and watches them.

Cross suddenly realized that Mercer wasn't doing anything what he did back in the Outbreak.

But _why_?

"Keep those guns down until I have left and you will survive the day", the viral abomination stated with a serious tone in his voice. "Shoot at me and I will not hesitate to kill every last one who holds a gun." He inclined his head a bit, furrowing his brows. "I won't like doing this, but I also won't hold back, you got me?"

Hold on. Cross took a step back. Did that fucker just say he _did not_ want to kill his men? He hated Blackwatch with a passion. He destroyed them without mercy during the Outbreak, but now?

 _Holding back?_

Cross could see the hatred that raged on behind the man's visage. He could almost feel the anger radiating off him.

"The Fuck?!" One of the Lieutenants choked out. This was Riley, wasn't it?

Suddenly ZEUS was right in front of him, holding him aloft with one arm, a scowl on his face.

"Do _not_ question me, human", He snarled enraged. The other soldiers had their guns back up, but they didn't shoot yet. They didn't want to hit one of their own. "Do you know how this feels? I have been hunted by Blackwatch", Mercer barked, "Blackwatch tried to _kill_ me, tried to kill my family! I wanted to kill them all before they could turn on me."

He let go of the Lieutenant suddenly, letting him drop to the floor without harming him. "I still want to kill all of you", he growled lowly, "But I won't." He actually stepped back, turning his back to the confused soldiers. "You know why?" He asked matter-of-factly "It is because I am better than you."

 _What_

The germy bastard stopped and eyed the men. "This is the only chance you have, so do not waste it", he growled. "I will not hunt you down if you keep to yourselves. I will not hurt you even if we meet on the streets. But I swear, should you bunch of idiots ever try to go after me or my family, I _will_ not hold back." Suddenly _flames_ started to spring up along his arms, flickering with his raising temper. "If you _ever_ attempt to hurt anybody who holds a meaning to me, I _will_ murder you. That is a promise."

He simply leapt off the ground and on some low building, vanishing from their sights.

"The FUCK?!" Heller broke out. "The Fuck was that about?"

"It is a warning", Cross realized. His headache was acting up again.

"Sir? How do we proceed?"

"Report to General Rooks about ZEUS' return. Tell him to prepare in case that freak tries something", Cross stopped him before he could run off, though. "Tell the General to _not_ engage ZEUS before he actively attacks us."

"But Sir!"

"Tell him it was my order to let the germy bastard go. I do not want to waste any more men just when we were starting to make process on this entire Fucking Situation."

"Sir", the soldier hurried off. Cross groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose again. He really wasn't drunk enough to deal with this.

* * *

It was the late evening. The air was still slightly warm from the late spring, the sounds of the city was muted up here.

Alex stood at the top of the Empire State Building and inhaled the scents of the city. It was an almost forgotten scent, but it was so different to the scents he smelled for most of his existence. But this was where he belonged, where he was supposed to be. Not Middle Earth, but Manhattan.

The virus had spent a good portion of the day re-acquainting himself with his birth town. He had run along the buildings, leapt off ledges and glided through the whole of Manhattan, just to get the feeling back for the city he yearned to return to.

It still felt unreal, even now.

But now as he stood atop the Empire State Building with his eyes closed and his senses open for everything around him, the realization that he was _home_ slowly settled in.

He still couldn't really wrap his head around it, since he has been at one of the most magical places a few hours ago: Lothlórien, heart of the Elven Kingdom.

But now he was back in Manhattan with no Elves, no Dwarves, no Hobbits, no Orcs, no giant talking eagles, no dragons, no Wraith, no Dark Lords and no magic rings.

Alex scoffed. He certainly had enough of magical rings, especially since Galadriel's way to get him home brought him directly to where he vanished before: Right above the Atlantic Ocean.

He remembered the way it felt when he passed through the light in Lothlórien. It wasn't anything spectacular, only light. Warm and soothing, but it was quickly replaced for a cold wind whipping at his face, the scent of sea beneath him and the total loss of his foot hold.

Luckily he did remember just in time that he had eaten a Nazgûl mount and was thus able to assume its appearance. And these beasts had _wings_ , so he only skimmed the surface beneath instead of submerging completely.

Which was a great plus point, since he still hated water with a passion.

As he closed in on Manhattan, he became aware of the state the Island was in. There were more people and less infected areas, so the time passed here just as it passed in Middle Earth, and life had returned to the city.

Just as he passed the city limits and began looking for a place to land and change back, he heard the sound of gunfire. He found a Blackwatch compound and a few Infected attacking it, so he lurched down and attacked the Infected, ignoring the cloud of Bloodtox that enveloped him.

And then he had simply left the Blackwatch goons alone. He only once toyed with the idea of killing them, but then Gandalf's voice echoed in his mind: _"Don't be so quick to deal out death in punishment."_ And Alex had listened to the Wizard. He didn't attack or kill the men, even if his entire body screamed at him to do just that. But then his mind snapped back in control, asking him what those men did to deserve his wrath. With the exception of Cross, there was not a single man who he fought during the Outbreak. All those that did him wrong were _dead_. And those left alive weren't those he targeted. So he went away without harming the men. He even left his back wide open to them, but they didn't shoot him.

' _But then again'_ , He thought, _'I have eaten Satan. I'm pretty sure there's nothing they can do to stop me anyways.'_

So he left them alone. Why bother to trifle with insects anyways?

One of the first people he went to was Ragland to thank him for helping his sister. He wasn't in the 's Hospital anymore, but it was easy to follow his scent, even if it was an old track. The good doctor now worked in one of the new buildings and had found new employment as one of several crime scene coroners. The dark-skinned doctor and his colleague both just stared at him as the Prototype simply walked in on them on their lunch break. While the other man, a Sid Hammerback, asked him how he got here, Ragland quite literally fell off his chair as Alex approached him. Maybe he was scared. Ragland had always been in fear when Alex wanted to speak to him, so the virus had stopped his motion and helped the man climb back to his feet.

Then he had thanked him for everything he did for them. He had always been there, helped Alex with the parasite that had been eating him from the inside, he helped him find Dana and, most importantly, he had taken care of Dana when she was in coma.

Ragland had smiled after overcoming his initial shock and told him where to find his little sister. Alex had left shortly after that, jumping out of the window to land at the other building while ignoring the surprised chatter from the other crime scene investigators who had gathered outside the lunch room.

Alex didn't care if they saw what he could do. Let the world know that he was back, he had thought with a smirk when he ran up the building front and stopped atop the roof to think about what Ragland told him.

It appeared that it was Cross himself who took care that Ragland and Dana were not further pursued and that their names were cleared of all accusations. He had to thank the Specialist at one point. But only when he was alone and not surrounded by those trigger-happy Blackwatch assholes.

Alex opened his eyes and turned south. He just had to go down the Fifth Avenue, then turn at the Christopher Street. It was only fitting that she returned to her old apartment, he thought, because nobody would ever suspect it.

2215 Christopher Street, Apartment 15A, that was where he was heading. It wasn't just a number burnt into his brain since he first learnt of it, it was where he had to go.

With a powerful leap, he jumped off the top of the Empire State Building, snapping his legs back as he soared through the air with no care in the world.

Why should he? Here he was unchallenged, the King of New York City, and nothing would dare to face him here, nothing that could mess with his mind. No Dark Lords, no stinking Orcs. No Elves that watched him. He smirked, slowly descending upon a building. Without so much as blink, he dropped the last few feet to the roof, hitting the ground in a roll. He was upright the next second, dashing towards the edge and leapt off, crossing the distance to the next building within a second.

From afar, he could hear the people gasp, as they just witnessed a shadow jump from roof to roof and glide along high above their heads. Tiny, insignificant humans. They didn't even know they caught a glimpse of the mighty ZEUS.

Alex inhaled the cooling air and hit another gravel covered roof, eventually slowing to a total stop as he stood in front of the roof entrance.

He opened the door with no problems and walked down the stairs, passing through the levels of the building until he found the one he was looking for.

 _Mercer_ was written on the doorbell. Alex paused, thinking about what to say before he went to press it.

The shrill ring of the bell was promptly answered by a pair of feet stomping the ground.

He thought of Boromir and Faramir, how glad they were when they finally reunited. He thought of Elladan and Elrohir and how they always hung around each other. He thought of Merry and Pippin, the cousins who were like brothers, who stuck together in everything. He also remembered Merry's face when he realized that Pippin was going to leave him to go to Minas Tirith.  
Most of all, Alex thought of Èomer and Èowyn. An older brother and a younger sister, just like him and Dana. He remembered the pained howl Èomer made when he found his baby sister lying nearly dead on the Pelennor Fields, and he remembered the utter relief the man showed when the younger sibling woke up again.

Alex frowned. Would Dana even want to see him? After all, _he_ was the sole reason she was captured by Elizabeth Greene. She did it to get into _his_ head.

The door swung open, revealing a rumpled-looking tired Dana. Obviously, she has been working hard. Maybe for college, maybe for her job.

"Whu-" She began to say, but cut herself short when her eyes found Alex. She stared at him with her jaw slack, trying to comprehend whether he was real.

The Prototype slid his hood off his head and pulled his lips up in a little smile.

"Alex?" Dana asked disbelieving.

"Hi", the older sibling simply said.

Immediately Dana had pounced at him. Her arms wrapped tight around his torso and she buried her face against his chest, muffling her cries.

"I thought you were dead", she sobbed, "When I woke up, Cross was there. He said you detonated a Nuclear Warhead- I thought you were dead!"

"I survived", Alex replied with a soothing tone. "But I was gone for a long time." He nuzzled his cheek into her hair. "Don't worry Dana. I'm back now and I will never leave you alone again."

* * *

 **Author: Now it's finished. I'd like to thank everybody who reviewed this story, especially alexkehling and krazyfanfiction. You guys stuck with me from the beginning to the end :)**

 **A few things: 2010 Heller was 36 years old, and I believe Cross was around 37 in 2008. Alex was 29.**

 **And yes. Alex has used the Nazgûl shriek and the Fellbeast Shape**


End file.
